


Running With the Wolves

by stardustedknuckles



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Alternative Werewolf Lore, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, First Meetings, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Werewolf Yasha (Critical Role), but not for a while, tw obann
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:54:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28121958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustedknuckles/pseuds/stardustedknuckles
Summary: Beau's been in this city for two years, and she's made a life for herself with the help of the friends she was lucky to fall in with early on. A steady job at the library, a best friend for a roommate, and a sense of belonging that evaded her prior to breaking free from her old life. She winds up with a huge dog and soon after makes friends with Yasha, a quiet but striking woman who starts turning up in her life. Obviously, those two things are absolutely coincidental and unrelated.Things seem to be going really well between them, but in spite of Beau's best efforts she never seems to be able to hang out with Yasha for more than a couple of hours before Yasha has to go. She's a bad liar, but Beau doesn't want to press her for details. Something related to Yasha's past, she can respect that.And then Yasha's past becomes present, and Beau's got to make sense of Yasha's history if either of them is going to have a future.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett/Yasha, Jester Lavorre & Beauregard Lionett
Comments: 93
Kudos: 296





	1. Steak a Claim

**Author's Note:**

> Here we are, the plot I've been alluding to in all my snapshots of this AU is officially starting. I make no promises on update times, but the seal is broken and it exists now, and that is something.
> 
> To clarify, this will be the standalone story that is the basis upon which the collection of werewolf AU fics is built. This is that universe, this is what's referenced throughout those fics to varying degrees.

The wolf had been running for ten hours. Dawn had risen on her desperate grab for freedom, and the afternoon light of late spring was just cresting to wane as her massive paws began to stutter in their exhausted stride. Scents flooded her with every breath, but she paid no attention to what new things she could smell - all that mattered was leaving _his_ smell behind. It lingered on her fur, hateful and sweet under the loamy earth and new spring flowers, but if the woods she found herself in now had ever seen anything like him, there was no way to tell.

It would have to do.

Half-blind with exhaustion, the wolf didn't dare stop until she knew it was safe. She could smell so many people, even sticking to the trees, and people meant watchers. Watchers meant _keep going_. If she stopped, she didn't know when she'd get back up again.

The decision was made for her in the end, when she hauled herself over a fallen log and caught her back paw on its rot-damp bark. The wolf tumbled head over paws down a slope, crashing through leaves and off of tree trunks with no energy to do anything but tuck herself in and wait.

It was a long slope, and her head felt scrambled when she landed. The wolf pushed herself up to her paws, head swinging and great nose snuffling. Her ears pricked at the same moment something intensely delicious washed over all her other smells.

Meat.

She hesitated even as drool collected along her tongue with every pant. Meat, yes, but people too. That's what she could hear - people. A voice that had been speaking but was now quiet.

When was the last time she'd been fed? Three sleeps minimum, and she had come all this way.

There really wasn't much of a choice. The wolf wasn't fit to keep going like this. It was possible that even hunting a rabbit was beyond her reach - and there was _almost_ enough energy left in her for indignation about it.

Still, she was free. However that looked, however long it lasted until she was running again, right now the collar was nothing but an invisible itch. None of his magic in range.

The wolf hovered at the edge of the woods a few minutes later, steadier on her paws now after stopping to drink deeply from a small creek nearby. A house, somewhat secluded, some 70 feet away. In its yard, standing at a smoking contraption that smelled of meat and salt, a human. The wolf watched her closely, sniffing carefully. No scent of blood, fresh or old. Barefoot and in loose clothing, but there was a power to the way she moved that gave pause. She looked relaxed, but her gaze stretched far across the yard and into the woods several times even as she idled. Not fear, not even real guard. She just saw.

Watching without guard. How?

The wolf shrank a little closer to the bush hiding her and observed. Guarded.

She sniffed the air cautiously. There were touches of magic all around, but it smelled clean, or smoky, or like something sweet - the good kind. She sniffed harder, searching. Something earthy, something that smelled like the moment before a shift.

But no stink. No poison, no ill will.

Most importantly, absolutely no smell of magic on the woman with the meat.

The wolf pushed herself up on heavy paws and stepped out from the trees.

* * *

Beau hung up and slid her phone in her pocket before taking a deep breath and stretching her arms way up in the late afternoon's heat. The steaks sizzled amicably when she set them on the grill, and the light of golden hour was in full force.

It had been a good day, all told, and it wasn't over yet. Jester would be home soon, and the evening stretched ahead with endless possibility. With no work tomorrow, Beau was free to stay up tonight and do…pretty much whatever, but she knew in her heart of hearts it would probably be binge watching something cheesy with Jester.

Which suited her just fine, as always.

Beau closed the top of the grill and found herself nearly face to face with what was probably the biggest dog she'd ever seen. It wasn't actually eye level with her, but it was tall enough to disorient - it _felt_ as tall as Beau simply because it refused to be the correct size, so the effect was the same.

"Shit fuck holy gods," Beau stammered. A distant part of her brain chimed in with a long-forgotten piece of trivia to suggest that if she were going to perhaps hurl curses at giant dogs instead of hauling ass out of their reach, it might be in her best interest to make sure her tone was soft and calming? Right, that was a thing. Soft and calming for wild animals.

Was it a wild animal?

"Sorry," she said, quieter. "You uh, startled me?" Beau winced even as she heard herself. That was about as quiet as she got before whispering, but she still got the distinct impression it wasn't quite what the random knowledge part of her brain had been going for. The dog simply stood and watched with a kind of intent that was slightly unnerving. There were fifteen feet between her and the door, and about four between her and the world's sneakiest mountain. How had Beau not seen her get close? And now what?

Soft words hadn’t gotten her mauled so far, Beau figured, so she tried some more while her brain worked double time to work out exactly how much danger was staring her in the face and drooling, just a little.

"Uh. Hi…friend. Dog. Dog friend." Great job. "Can I help you?" _Oh come on_.

Unfazed by Beau's excellent customer service skills, the dog looked from Beau to the grill and licked its chops. Now that she looked more closely, Beau could see that however big it was now, it was also clearly underfed. Its stomach inflated behind its ribcage with every breath and though it was too shaggy to make out individual protrusions, the dirt that covered its fur and matted wet and dark in places was more than enough to signal something wrong - sickness, maybe, but Beau sensed something more like neglect.

"You look like you've had a shit day," she said softly. "Or month." The dog shifted slightly. It didn't seem to want to put weight on a back paw, but it was hard to tell when it was standing so still. The only things that had moved before that were its ears and its long pink tongue as it panted softly.

There was definitely something odd about the whole thing, but it was hard to say exactly what. The dog clearly didn't want to be here - which was odd, to feel such a clear intent from an animal. In fact, intent was in everything it did. It seemed to carry itself in a way that Beau couldn't remember seeing in her admittedly limited experience with dogs. Were big dogs just like this? Her knowledge of dogs extended only as far as the family Jack Russell they'd had for two months when she was a teen - sensibly called Jack. But he'd been roughly the size of one of this dog's paws and a perpetual coiled spring of energy.

This dog…it almost seemed self possessed somehow. Regal, Beau thought, but that was a dumb word to apply to something as scraggly as this dog.

Also it kind of stank.

It sneezed suddenly, and Beau's mind snapped back to the present as it followed up with a sort of exhausted cough that made Beau's chest clench in sympathy. Something had to give, and it should probably be the human of the situation if the human wanted a say in how things were going to go.

Beau took a deep breath. "I think I have to feed you," she said. "Like, I think that's what happens when a big dog comes up in your yard and stares at you, right? You just. Give it food and hope it doesn't eat you." The dog shifted on its paws and whined, a high-pitched and pitiful sound that matched the sorry state it was in.

Beau carefully reached for the handle of the grill's lid, lifting her other hand in a placating gesture. The steaks made merry popping noises and despite having been over the flame for a handful of minutes, they already smelled amazing. Beau looked sadly at the thick slabs of meat and back to the dog, who stared sadly back.

Beau sighed. "No fair," she grumbled, reaching for the tongs. "You come with literal puppy dog eyes." She got a grip on one of the steaks and looked quickly back to the dog. It's front paws shifted a little, and then its back half landed awkwardly on the grass off the edge of the patio as it settled. Beau decided to take that as a show of faith and before she could talk herself out of it, she pulled the steak off and tossed it.

Or at least she intended to. Mostly it flopped kind of awkwardly in the tongs, slippery and weighted weird, and then fell to the ground a foot from her with a pathetic wet sound.

The dog looked at it. Beau looked at the dog. "Well, fuck."

The dog moved and Beau shifted with a sudden, dreadful certainty that it was about to pounce - just barrel her out of the way and possibly make an extra meal of what was, if she may say so herself, a fairly tasty body.

But it had only shifted to lie down, shaking and drooling and staring at the steak but not moving. Beau waited a tense moment, but the dog made no motion to get up. "Okay," Beau said softly. One of its ears twitched, and now she could hear its teeth clicking together. "Okay. Three seconds, don't move." Beau snatched the other steak up with the tongs and dropped it on the first before closing the lid and stepping quickly away.

The dog lurched forward immediately and sank its teeth into the meat, unheeding of temperature and making small noises in its throat as it chewed desperately. There was that feeling again, Beau thought, like there was something odd about it all. She tilted her head as she watched.

The dog had all but pounced on the meat, yes, but it hardly seemed as forceful as the sort of bite she'd expect from a rangy, half-starved dog - and she'd seen plenty of dogs in the alley behind Veth's bakery in her time helping out. When starving alley dogs went for food, they went all in with a kind of savagery that made even the little ones look formidable.

And she wasn't going to push her luck here, really, but the dog was striking her more and more as either exceptionally trained or simply very smart. Trained would explain waiting for the meat, but it absolutely did not account for the way the dog clearly wanted Beau nowhere near it. Who would train a dog like this and then treat it like shit?

But then again, what starving dog had ever waited for food, smart or no?

"You're a piece of work, huh?" The dog's tail twitched, but it didn't pause. The first steak was already gone, and the second was on its way.

Beau sighed and reached for her phone. She snapped a quick picture and sent it to Jester with a text: _this guy showed up looking big and hungry. gave him the steaks. Ordering takeout now, sorry._

The order was as familiar as her own phone number, and she'd hit checkout by the time Jester's reply came through: _oh my gods he's huge!! Does he have a collar?_

Beau frowned and peered at the dog's whitish-gray ruff. No indention that she could see, and she certainly couldn't hear any tags jingling. It was almost finished with the second steak - it must've slowed down a bit. _Don't think so. Haven't gotten that close._

The dog had finished and was now snuffling at the concrete, trying to lick up whatever it could. It looked at Beau as warily as before, but if she wasn't nuts it also seemed a little hopeful. "There's hot dogs in the fridge," she said to it. "Might as well. Wait here, I'll be right back." She pulled the vent shut on the grill and crossed the fifteen feet to the sliding glass door, picking up the plates and the tongs on the way.

Part of her thought maybe it was a little dumb to give up a bunch of food to the first stray that had come their way, but mostly Beau found herself oddly charmed by the way things had played out. A giant dog, scared and hungry and maybe hurt, and it had just…let her help. Like it knew somehow. She'd had some time to get used to the idea that people thought of her as a helper - between working at the bakery for those few months and her job now at the library, she was pretty well-versed in being someone others sought out for information.

But that was for products and book titles. That stuff was in her job title. Dogs didn't give a shit about that, and Beau felt kind of gratified, like she'd been chosen somehow.

"Sorry, grabbed a few extra things," she said as she stepped back out, but the dog was gone. 

Beau looked around, but the yard was empty. "Oh," she said. "I guess that makes sense, huh." She suddenly felt a little small, standing in her yard holding cold leftovers. 

A bit deflated, she squatted at the edge of the porch and dumped the hot dogs from their packaging before doing the same to the two small dishes of leftovers and returning inside. Possibly they'd wind up with a raccoon or something, but it seemed like the thing to do.

Beau lingered at the door and looked out over the yard, all the way to the treeline and along the edges. No dog, just a faint and confusing sense of a thread being cut, over what was objectively nothing at all.

She sighed and reached for the curtains, then thought better of it and left them open. Maybe she'd get lucky and spot it again.

She set the dishes in the sink and opened her grocery list for tomorrow. "Steak," she typed. Then, "dog food?"


	2. Dogged Determination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Befriending a wild and mistrustful creature is a long process achieved by degrees - not that Beau or any of her friends would know.

"You know that's not a dog, right?"

Beau looked up from her book to flick from Caleb's reflection in the sliding glass door to the yard beyond. Barely visible at the edge of the light coming from the porch, a white smudge sat with its tail over its paws and stared back.

"Fuckin' big squirrel then." She returned to her book and smiled to herself when she heard Jester laugh quietly in the soft seat next to her. 

It had been seven days since the dog showed up, and since then it had only come in the very late afternoons and evenings, like now. Beau imagined it probably liked to stay out of sight during the day, which made sense given that it was huge and white where things in the woods tended more towards huge and green or brown - or blue, but there was only the one rusted pickup truck.

Caleb spoke up again, and it was amazing - Beau could actually hear him rolling his eyes. "It is a dog the same way a lion is a cat."

Beau turned the page of the dog training manual, her second in as many days. "So…big dog. Ha!" she pointed to the line in front of her. "Dad always said dogs are trying to be alpha, like you have to break them of that. Book says that's bullshit." She paused, scanning ahead. "Or that it's at least far more complicated and individual than portrayed. Yeah that tracks." She frowned. "Kind of feel like maybe that's true for kids too, especially the asshole ones."

Caleb was good at keeping their conversations on track - sometimes too good - and now he waited until he knew she was listening again. "I am saying that it's a wolf." His tone meant he was serious, but his words alone were enough to catch her full attention.

"What? No way." It was possible, she supposed. They did live in a art of the country given to vast swaths of untamed forest. But not this close to the city - even ten miles away was too close for something like a wolf. She was already moving in spite of her racing thoughts, unfolding her legs and setting the book aside before crossing quietly to the window in the attempt to avoid spooking the anti-shadow outside.

Beau peered out, piecing together Caleb's words and the photos from the books she'd consumed. Mostly they were about dogs, but several harkened back to wolves and a few of them had pictures. It might have been easier to agree if this one were patterned like them, but the sheer white threw her off.

Caleb had been eyeing the cookie tray on the table behind them, and Beau watched his faint reflection turn and swipe one.

"Wolves are like…huge though," she said finally. "Like _really_ huge. And they have packs."

"She _is_ huge," Caleb said. "The only dogs that grow to that size are easily recognizable as other breeds. She could be a mix, but…" He shook his head. "I really don't think so."

The dog - wolf - settled so that she was lying down. Her eyes stayed moving between them, but her posture seemed as relaxed as Beau had seen it over the past few days. "Huh," she said. "Why's she by herself?"

Caleb shrugged and turned from the window. "You said she seemed fearful of people. Something could have happened to her pack, or maybe she was captured and taken from them. There is a market."

Beau felt a pang of something unpleasant at the thought. The wolf already looked healthier in the few days she'd been skulking nearby and - presumably - eating the food Beau left out, but her clean white coat and healthier disposition just further drove home what Beau had already seen: this was a beautiful animal, and it seemed as afraid of humans as it was aware of them.

It was hard to tell, but Beau imagined the wolf was looking right at her. She didn't want to look away. It felt important somehow, like a kind of communication was happening. "You keep saying it's a she," she said sideways to Caleb.

He lifted his hands, took a bite from the cookie in one of them. "It is only a guess based on overall proportion," he said once he'd swallowed. "I am not so inclined to check."

"Lame," Jester called from the living room.

Beau heard Caleb's amused huff of acknowledgement, but the wolf was still maintaining eye contact so she did too. "Nah," she said. "I think 'she' is probably fine. Feels right." She'd leaned in without realizing, and the glass misted with her words. When it faded, the wolf was again flicking her gaze around the dark yard, ears twitching.

Beau was distantly disappointed at the severance of contact and surprised to notice it. "I kind of wish I knew how to help her," she said. That was less surprising. "Like besides the food. I don't want her to be scared, you know?"

She glanced at Caleb's hand when it landed on her shoulder, then up to his face. "You are already feeding her and reading books on how to do just that," he said. His contemplative look was only slightly undercut by the cookie crumb in his scruff. "I think... that if anybody could figure out how to tame a wild creature who is fearful and new to the area, so to speak, it would be you."

Beau sighed, wiped off the glass. "I'll see what we have on wolf behavior at the library tomorrow. Seems more relevant than reading about dog training, cuts to the chase."

"Oh, I love your animal behavior section," Jester piped up. "I can't believe you have an entire section for it. The library back home is so small that we just had an 'animals' section. _You_ guys have everything."

"That is true," Caleb agreed. "Part of the reason I stayed here to try school again was because I knew what an excellent resource I had. The Soul is a second home for me." He glanced at Beau. "Almost everyone is so helpful."

Heat rose in Beau's cheeks. "Thanks, but it's not like I own it. I just work there. Besides -" she elbowed Caleb. "You're just glad nobody's allowed to talk about whatever kinky arcane shit you ask for."

Caleb wiggled his eyebrows. "What else is a non-disclosure policy good for?"

Beau grinned. "You happen to get that in writing?"

Caleb made a face at her, but they were both smiling when he wandered off to go and sit with Jester in the living room. "Just take the tray, man," Beau called over her shoulder when he reached for another ginger snap. 

There was a beat of silence, and then she heard the plastic slide on the table as he took the tray.

Beau looked through the window again, thoughts settling as surely as Caleb settled into the couch. She hadn't looked at the situation quite the way Caleb had outlined it, but he definitely had a point. A little over two years ago, she'd basically been doing the same thing as the wolf: showing up hungry behind the bakery Veth ran and looking equal parts threatening and sad, making everyone work at getting to know her. Veth and Caleb had welcomed her at first as someone in need, but Jester had taken to her immediately as like...a person. All of her bright attention and affection had been lavished on Beau indiscriminately and without expectation, and after spending so many years screaming in vain to be noticed, it had been quite the shock. Beau figured it had taken roughly six months before she'd stopped waiting for the other shoe to drop, even after moving in with Jester and starting work at the library on Caleb's recommendation.

By her estimation, six months was about ten times sooner than she relaxed for most people - if she ever did at all.

But Beau wasn't waiting in perpetual defensiveness anymore these days, and on the other end of time and therapy she had a home and a life she'd never thought possible. It was a nice thought, that Beau might be able to pay that forward in some way. Even if - especially if? - it was to an animal that had no way of understanding her reasoning.

As long as Beau remembered that this wolf could go at any time, that it didn't actually belong to her, it couldn't hurt to keep trying to earn her trust. After all, she couldn’t take it personally if it didn't work out. They owed each other nothing. No pressure.

* * *

But thing was that Beau didn't _want_ it to leave, which had everything to do with why she was here now, three days later, soaked to the skin and dragging a huge piece of spray-painted metal siding from the shed to the treeline in the middle of a downpour. The weather had transitioned from a light afternoon shower to a relentless and heavy summer storm with almost no warning, and now it threatened to wash out the yard. Weeks with no rain meant the water had no time to soak into the ground, and there was nothing but grass bowing under rushing water in the spot Beau usually saw the wolf.

Beau had managed to wrestle a tarp over a low branch and pound stakes through the rings deep into the ground on her first trip, and on the next two had brought four cinder blocks to set inside at its corners. Thank the gods for Jester's abandoned projects.

She looked out for a white shape moving around as she worked, but Beau couldn't see much of anything more than twenty feet away through the gray drive of the rain.

It was dumb, probably, to be doing this. Probably everything she'd dragged out here would smell too much like her - was that just a bird thing? - or the metal would be uncomfortable, or any number of things. Maybe all she'd managed to do was fuck up the wolf's sleeping spot when it was dry. Maybe she'd driven it off, done too much too soon.

But every time she saw the wolf, it -she - was slower to run away. _Just last night_ she'd been eating from the plate on the porch when Beau had come out with the trash. Instead of bolting into the woods at the first sound of the door, she had simply watched Beau for a long moment before backing up to give her a wide berth.

It was nothing. A non-interaction.

But a degradation of fear was all Beau had in the way of measuring improvement, and gods forbid a washed-out yard be what undid all that progress. If providing shelter meant the wolf would keep choosing Beau's yard to wander into, then she'd make it the most comfortable yard within ten miles.

On a more anxious note, Beau really didn't want it to wander somewhere it could be caught again, or worse. And it wasn't like she minded getting soaked. It felt nice, to have created this shitty little shelter. Nicer than another three hours of Netflix at the very least.

Beau dropped the siding and nudged in place, making sure it was level before straightening up with a grunt to watch the rain splash the mud and bits of dirt down her hands in gritty rivulets. She wiped them futilely on her drenched tank top and kicked at one of the stakes to ensure it was deep enough, and then she turned back to the house and began to squelch across the yard.

Beau paused to squint out again when she reached the door, but it was hard to make out details of the gray tarp in the rain. Possibly it was also hard to make out much of anything because of the water that kept running from her hair into her eyes, but who could say. Beau kicked her shoes off onto the mat outside and took a moment to wring out her tank and her shorts as well as she could. The dry, covered concrete turned dark where she dripped on it, and the sight reminded Beau of the old hardwood floors between the kitchen and the bathroom. She hadn't thought to bring a towel when she came outside, and she didn't particularly feel like retracing and drying her wet footprints before she could shower. 

Well. That settled it. Beau pulled her wet braid into a topknot, squeezed it once to get rid of any extra water, and started stripping.

* * *

Her wet clothes were still on the kitchen mat when Beau emerged to grab them a half hour later, towel around her damp hair and skin still warm from the wash. The light on her phone was blinking when she fished it out of her shorts, and she flicked on her screen as she picked up everything in the mat and carried it to the dryer. She wiped off the water spots on the front of her soft, dry shirt and thumbed open the waiting email: 

_From: Expositor Dairon_

_To: Beauregard Lionett_

_Subject: Change in Tomorrow's Schedule_

_I have just set up an appointment for tomorrow afternoon, but they can't be sure exactly when they'll arrive or for how long. I'll need you to head up Circulation for most of the day just in case. Let me know if you need anything written down, as always._

_Thanks,_

_-Dairon_

Beau grinned to herself. An appointment with no set time? That had to be driving Dairon nuts. She tapped back a quick "no problem" and added her hair towel to the dryer before jabbing the start button and turning back to the kitchen to make a snack. Circulation was fine now and then - it was a nice change of pace, and Beau liked having the chance to chat with Dairon outside of the bi-weekly training at the gym. She liked to think they enjoyed her company too, even if her only real evidence of their approval came in the form of emails that were worded in a way that was slightly less stiff than they were to other people. Coming from Dairon, she figured, that was two steps from being invited to family functions.

On the way to the fridge, Beau stopped and glanced out the back window. The rain had let up somewhat during her shower, and as she peered through to the trees Beau was inordinately pleased to spot the gray shape of the tarp, the brown edge of the siding, and the white smudge of her resident wolf tucked in between, apparently asleep.


	3. Pawsibilities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beau sets up a date, which she has never done and will call it a meeting if pressed, and the wolf gets closer - which it has never done. A day of firsts. What a coincidence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gods, finally! The end took me a while. Partially to write, partially to quit obsessing over.

Whoever Dairon was waiting to meet today must be something special, because Beau had rarely seen them worked up like this. "Worked up," of course, looked on Dairon like an intensity dialed up a little higher than their usual. The look on their face as they punched numbers into the computer reminded Beau of the way they sized her up in their gym sessions right before they stepped in to drive home again exactly why they were the teacher and Beau the student.

She'd been so good for four hours, but Beau was at her limit. "So are you meeting with the CIA or did someone offer you like, a really good research grant?"

Dairon's eyes flicked to the clock at the bottom of their screen, then to the clock on the wall before returning to the paper on the desk. "If it were the CIA, I would know exactly what time to expect an arrival," they said. Coming from Dairon, that was basically a joke.

Beau stared. "Okay I have never wanted you to tell me what you're doing more than right now, and that's saying something." She pulled her feet down from the desk and leaned in to peer at Dairon from the very edge of their personal bubble. Beau had long suspected that if a spell existed that prevented people from getting within two feet of them, they would have dropped everything to learn it.

She also suspected that Dairon would let her through it, but she never pushed it. Which was probably why she had the feeling at all.

"I don't know," Dairon said. They still didn't look up. "You were insufferable for a week after the goliath boy."

Beau huffed. "I _still_ have questions."

"Keep at your training. I'll tell you when you're an Expositor."

They were looking at the clock so much that Beau couldn't help but follow. "You're giving me secondhand anxiety," she complained. "Which is weird because I don't even think you get anxious."

Tap-tap tap tap-tap-tap. "You could always start on the overdue notices." They cast a quick glance around. "Or work on your mindfulness. It's pretty quiet today."

The chair groaned as Beau leaned back, almost as loud as she did. She reached out and batted her mouse to disperse the screensaver and scowled at the list of overdue notices. She didn't mind the more tedious work now that it wasn't part of her everyday routine, but it was impossible to consider focusing on something so small when Dairon was this keyed up.

"Beau," Dairon said, and there was that trace of amusement so faint that if she weren't Beauregard "perceptive as hell" Lionett, she'd miss it entirely. "If you must pick up on my emotional state, please do it more quietly. There's not much of a point to concealing my responses to situations if you are here to broadcast them."

As always, Beau felt that surge of pride at Dairon's acknowledgment of her frankly uncanny ability to pick up on their energy. As always, the sense of accomplishment was chased by a tinge of embarrassment. "Yeah, okay." Beau sat up straight and took a deep, centering breath, releasing her chaotic thoughts and letting them ricochet around her head without encouragement or interaction.

She could feel Dairon watching her without watching, and she acknowledged the flash of anxiety it brought her to be observed before letting it dissipate. The burning curiosity gradually loosened its grip, and the driving need to prove herself in some way faded back into the corners of her mind to re-emerge another day - because it would.

It had frustrated her in the beginning, that clearing her mind was so temporary. She wanted mastery over her thoughts, to only have the ideas and emotions that served her in some way. It had felt futile, then, to work so hard to banish them for such a short time. And besides, she'd felt like an idiot sitting in a chair trying to breathe her way through bullshit she was embarrassed to be affected by in the first place. So she'd been "traumatized" or whatever. If she knew the problem, then she should be able to fucking _solve_ it.

But time and exposure had gone a long way to sanding off the sharp edges of Beau and her anxiety, and when she opened her eyes again it was to find herself freshly aware of her body and better prepared to focus on the task in front of her.

Also Dairon was gone.

"Oh come on." Beau huffed and leaned forward to peer down the hall. Yep, their office door was shut. Whoever they'd been waiting for had shown up, and she'd missed it because of weird monk shit.

Beau took another deep breath. "Well that fucking figures."

* * *

She was just getting started on her list of believable reasons she might still be here after close when the door finally unlocked and opened. Beau quickly pulled up the list of overdues - she had managed to do a few, at least - and did her best not to look like she was still intensely curious.

She couldn't do anything about looking intensely attracted, though.

The woman who stepped out of the hall and into the main lobby behind Dairon was…Beau tried to think of a better word than "arms," but it wasn't going well. Human, probably, a head taller than Beau - which, okay, not that difficult - pale as the fucking moon, black hair that turned white at the ends, and a blue stripe running from her lower lip to under her chin that had Beau pretty much unable to look anywhere else.

Or it would have, if the woman's eyes weren't trained on Beau with an intensity that quite frankly should have probably made her nervous. Beau wasn't good at following shoulds.

She lifted a weak hand. "Hi."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dairon looking from their guest - client? - back to Beau with an expression that might have been more…scrutable if Beau had been able to look at it dead on.

"Hi," said the woman, and Beau _knew_ she was fucked. That voice was softer than it had any right to be coming out of someone that big, and there was a hesitance to it, like Beau had called her bluff for the staring. She also moved very quietly, a fact Beau picked up on because Dairon was always on her ass about it. The floor behind the desk was tile, but Beau heard nothing as two hundred pounds of muscle and gravitas stepped forward and held out a hand. "My name is Yasha."

"Yes," said Beau. Shit. "Sorry," she said, climbing out of her chair to stand. "I mean I'm Beau. Good to meet you." She'd expected to have her hand crushed and looked forward to it eagerly, but the grip was perfectly measured - and lasted a little too long. "I'm uh. Dairon's, kind of. Their assistant, trainee - just Beau."

Dairon's voice was dry enough to catch fire if she wasn't careful with her consonants. "Five minutes to close. Yasha, I will see you next time."

Yasha started slightly as though she had forgotten Dairon was in the room, which was the effect Dairon tended to have on people who weren't Beau - and even then, only long months of exposure prevented Beau from entirely forgetting herself. "Thank you," Yasha said over her shoulder, then turned back to Beau.

Their hands were still clasped and Beau had about as much interest in being the first to let go as she did in finishing overdues. Yasha finally noticed and let go in a manner Beau would have described as reluctant on herself. She suddenly found she didn't know what to do with her empty hand and so stuffed it in her pants pocket.

"I'm sorry," Yasha said - was that bashfulness? "I think I've forgotten what the next part is."

It _was_ \- she was blushing now, and it was like seeing that faint tint to her cheeks reminded Beau's they could do that too. And better. "Well," she said coolly, on fire. "I know what I would like the next part to be, but it depends."

Yasha blinked. "On what?"

Beau realized for the first time that part of the lopsided, off-balance feeling she got from looking at Yasha had to do with the fact that her eyes were two strikingly different colors. In the fluorescents, one was violet and one was a kind of bleached blue. "Well, Dairon's kind of hot shit for a lot of secret people, and they never close the door unless it's with secret people, so it would depend on whether you're criminal secret or intelligence secret. Or both," she added. "It's not unheard of."

Yasha tipped her head in thought, and Beau found herself charmed by the seriousness with which she contemplated her dumb ramble. "Are those my only options?"

Beau grinned. "When it comes to Dairon, mostly yeah. I don't need details, just a broad view of what I'm getting into."

"And if I said criminal?"

"I'd say thank the gods, let's go get coffee, hold the murder."

Yasha looked at her strangely, and then very suddenly her mouth quirked into a smile that seemed to startle her as much as it delighted Beau. She turned her face away and said, "I…can't today, I have to go."

Beau's heart thudded in her chest. "Is that the _I'm interested tomorrow_ kind of 'I can't' or the gentle letdown kind? It's fine either way, I just wanna know up front. I don't…usually do this." The understatement of the century - Beau had two settings when it came to attraction, and one was "asleep."

Surprise in those mismatched eyes as they turned to her again. "Is tomorrow an option?"

Beau managed to avoid a fist pump. "Of course."

She saw something like tension evaporate from along the tops of those shoulders under the loose t-shirt she was wearing. "Then yes."

"Fuck yeah," said Beau, because she was apparently twelve. "Five thirty tomorrow, DaVinci's? There," she pointed across the street when Yasha looked confused.

She nodded hesitantly. "I might be a little late. I'm…not great with time."

"No problem," said Beau. "Good to know ahead of time. Five thirty-ish tomorrow, it's a date." Wait. "I mean a deal. It's coffee. A meeting."

Yasha looked nervous now, eyes darting to the door and back towards the hall of offices. "Yes," she said distractedly. "I will see you then, Beau." She looked like whatever deadline was preventing her from staying had just moved up, and Beau's one-track mind drew her attention to the muscle flexing and releasing in her arm.

Beau knew a "gotta go" when she saw one and took a last look at the woman before her. "I gotta grab my backpack out of my office and catch my bus," she said, which wasn't technically false but suggested she had fewer than fifteen minutes to make a two-minute walk.

"Okay," Yasha agreed quickly. It seemed to take effort for her to meet Beau's eyes again, but when she did she lingered for a moment with another intense stare. "Tomorrow then," she said. "It was good to meet you."

And even though Yasha looked as though her mind were a million miles away, Beau had little trouble believing her.

* * *

Beau slung her bag over her shoulder as she came out of the break room and headed for the back door, mind a tangle of stained glass eyes and the lingering fish smell from the microwave. Thanks, Beth.

"Beau." Dairon's voice did startle her this time, but a quick glance at the angle reassured her she'd avoided her mentor spotting the jump.

She poked her head into Dairon's office. "Yeah?"

It was rare that Dairon turned their full attention to her; there were a hundred things they were doing at any given time that allowed them to address Beau more obliquely as they worked. But their fingers were steepled, their chin atop them, and their stare had nowhere else to be but pinning Beau to the opposite wall through her shirt. "I don't have to tell you to watch yourself, yes?"

Beau's mouth worked. "Ah…yes. No? I don't actually know which one is the right answer but I do know to watch myself." She frowned. "Am I missing something? Is it really bad that your unfairly hot client is interested in me?" A realization. "Am I bait for a crime?"

The pressure in that gaze eased from a full-body pin to more of a strong suggestion that Beau stay where she was, which was an impressive feat to maintain while sighing. "You are not bait, Beau. But stay aware of the kinds of people who seek out the Soul and trust your judgement."

Beau nodded uncertainly. "My judgement today is mostly 'wow.' But I promise tomorrow I'll try to look closer."

Dairon's eyes closed in exasperation, which was the same thing as a smile and a dismissal. "I am certain you will. Don't miss your bus - I'll see you tomorrow."

* * *

Beau was still thinking about the woman with the mismatched eyes when she rounded the last tree-shaded bend in the driveway and spotted her wolf lying placidly in the waning evening light. Her ears were forward, gold-brown gaze bright, posture relaxed. Beau didn't so much immediately forget about Yasha as gently set the thought of tomorrow's date to the side so she could better ascertain the nature of _finding a wolf in her yard._

As she had been the first day they met, Beau was struck by the sense of intention of it all more than anything. The wolf looked as though she'd been waiting and could keep waiting, and she was positioned in such a way as to force Beau to pass somewhat close by to reach either door of the house.

Their eyes met for a long moment, and then the wolf gave a huge yawn, got to her paws, and stretched before returning her eyes to Beau's and wagging her tail the slightest amount.

It felt for all the world like a greeting, like something they did regularly and not the first instance of the wolf actively seeking Beau out and showing no sign of running.

"Hi," Beau said uncertainly, because it was the only possible response.

The wolf's tail twitched again, and she took a slow half step towards Beau, head lowering so that she was looking up at her. The Beau of ten days ago wouldn't have known how to interpret what she was seeing, but the Beau of today took in the soft way those muscles were held and the deferent, nonthreatening posture and reasoned that at the very least, she wasn't being sized up for dinner.

"Uh…how was your day?" Beau asked, because babbling to this same big-ass dog had earned her the chance to bond with it in the first place, and she was a big believer in not fixing things that weren't broken, especially when said things could break her. It seemed wise to offer the wolf a wide berth if she was going to try to walk on past, so Beau stepped to the side and started on an oblique path to the front door. "Mine was great," she continued breezily. "I mean we did have a kid throw up on the floor, but at least he did it on the tile. Cleaned up easy." The wolf's ears were up, her head cocked gently as she sniffed the air in Beau's direction and took another slow step towards her.

There was still nothing about her approach that communicated any danger, though Beau did have to admit that she might be slightly deficient in the risk assessment arena. Years of exposure had heightened her threshold for what constituted danger - for example, her father had never walked near her with the half the care a literal wolf was taking. Talk about perspective.

If it had ever bothered her to see things so differently than most people, she couldn't recall it.

After about ten of these mutually considerate steps across the yard, Beau stopped and sighed. "Okay," she said, turning to the wolf. "Clearly this is going down one way or the other today. Are we playing this by ear, because it kind of seems like you have a plan."

The wolf tilted its head and looked Beau over, probably because it was a wolf and a bit unfamiliar with things like plans or human speech.

Beau took another experimental step. The wolf moved closer. There were maybe three feet between them now. Beau scrubbed a hand over her face, cautious excitement and worry over scaring the wolf duking it out in her mind. "I know you don't understand me," she said, "but my last hour has been _nuts_. I asked someone on a date…meeting…thing - whatever it was, I have never done that. You are a wolf and do not care, but the point is that I am feeling like I can maybe do anything. So." She dropped into a squat and held a hand out, turning her gaze a little off to the side in the way she'd seen trainers greet strange dogs in the videos she had watched.

"There weren't any videos about how to politely say hi to wolves," she said apologetically. "I'm guessing because they were made by regular people who understand that it's probably a dumb idea. So I'm taking it on faith here that it goes similar to dogs." She had no way of knowing whether the wolf was approaching. Maybe it was standing with its head cocked, wondering what in the fresh fuck its food giver thought she was doing.

That would almost make two of them, to be fair.

"I'm just saying," she added, "if you're gonna bite, growl first or something." Not that it would change anything, but it sounded like a thing she'd like.

Her fingers tingled in the kind of way that told her brain something was nearby but not touching, that kind of intangible static that was probably all in her head but that she liked to think had something to do with how good her reflexes were. Slowly, Beau turned her head.

And found herself nose to black, curious nose.

The wolf was standing on the inside of her arm without touching it and snuffled, and Beau had about a half a second to deal with surprise and the sensation of being touched without the danger of pain before a long, pink tongue snaked from beneath that nose and licked her from chin to eye socket.

"F - gods, that's fucking cheating -" Beau jerked and landed on her butt in the packed dirt and gravel of the driveway, pressing her lips together as a dog significantly weighing more than she did took this as an invitation to bump her face gently with its muzzle. That damp, warm tongue flicked occasionally across Beau's neck and cheek as it looked her over.

Beau's eyes were squeezed shut out of concern for wolf breath more so than danger, but her heart rate was definitely way up when the wolf finally gave a sneeze and lifted its head. Beau was sprawled with her weight on her elbows, looking up into a placidly curious - and fucking huge - face, which relaxed into a friendly pant as the wolf dropped to its haunches.

"Is that it?" Beau was trying for annoyance but it mostly just sounded like shaky amusement if anything - that tongue had tickled, okay. "You gave me the once over and we're friends now? Are we goo -" This time she wasn't fast enough to keep that long tongue out of her mouth and went down to roll over and try to spit out a whole lotta nothing. She sat up and wiped her mouth, glaring now but not talking. Sarcasm, it seemed, was wasted on dogs.

The wolf looked distinctly unperturbed, tail swishing once or twice in the damp dirt.

Beau held out a hand the way she would if she were expecting someone to help her stand. Not slow. Not cautious. A demand for reciprocation. She'd just been _frenched_ for the first time in actual months by this wolf and maybe it was the fact that she was otherwise unharmed that removed the last dregs of caution from her, but this giant fucking wolf owed her a _Moment_.

The wolf looked at Beau's hand, sniffed at it, then that great white head butted up under it and licked at her forearm as Beau touched the fur on side of its face. Okay, so she was a _little_ gentle. She couldn't forget all the signals that had told her this was an animal that had been mistreated before, and the last thing Beau wanted was to set this back. At the end of the day, she'd rather have gross dog taste than risk scaring the wolf off. (There was no taste, but it felt like there _should_ be, and that was enough.)

Beau got the very sudden impression that the window for scaring off the wolf might have closed, actually, and this was largely to do with the way it very neatly placed one white paw just outside of her crossed legs, shifted its weight, and lowered its massive head in Beau's lap - pinning her politely, but definitively.

Beau stared, hand hovering above the fur between those huge and fuzzy ears - softer than she'd expected, more indistinct than they looked from a distance. "Um," she said astutely. The wolf turned its head to glance up at her and licked its chops, then thumped its tail once and closed its eyes.

Beau realized what all of this reminded her of. Caleb had a cat, Frumpkin - well, he was usually a cat - and while he mostly did what Caleb directed, it was left to its own devices the rest of the time. Even with its own limited autonomy, Frumpkin always gave Beau the vague sense that he wasn't entirely sure how to be all cat and no fey. He stared a little too long, made his opinions a little too well-known, and it reminded Beau an awful lot of the wolf and her intention, the way it seemed to forget in the smaller moments how it should behave.

But being from the feywild had never made Beau feel less…shiny, somehow, when Frumpkin picked her lap to curl up in, and this felt extraordinarily similar. "Did someone summon you?" She mused, and finally she let her hand rest between those ears and stroke softly. They twitched away from her hand reflexively on the first few passes, but the movement eased into something calmer until finally she heard the wolf sigh and felt its breath over the top of her knee as it relaxed fully.

She would have Caleb take a look at it, just to be sure there wasn't a dickhead wizard around summoning familiars and abandoning them or some other bullshit. On the other hand, part of Beau very much wanted to meet whoever was responsible for this wolf's initial fear, and she didn't much care if they were magical or what. Caleb was the brightest mage she'd ever met, and she could take him easy.

She hoped the vast and cozy pile of fur in her lap was real though, figured it probably had to be if it had a hurt paw initially and clear signs of hunger. Maybe, she thought, part of her had never really considered what it might be like for something to entrust itself to her care. She did know that it was very much a situation she would have balked at eighteen months ago. The idea of being responsible for the health and happiness of anything, herself included, would have made her skin crawl - caretaking wasn't a language she had ever been taught, and even now she had the accent of a new speaker.

But Beau had learned, over these months with her new family and in therapy, that behavior taught was not a sentence of behavior enacted. She'd worked, however reluctantly at first, how to identify and gradually loosen the bindings she'd wrapped around the idea of things like trust or kindness - traits and concepts that had afforded her nothing growing up and provided cracks for others to leverage to their own gain.

And now there was this wolf, and even though Beau was probably identifying with it a little too hard it seemed right that it should be her who found and helped it. Right place, right time, etc. Gods bless Dairon and their stipulation for Beau's employment - to say nothing of their complete expungement of her record.

The shadows in the yard whispered secrets across the dusk-touched grass, and the last of the late afternoon light spilled over Beau's bare shoulders and the white, almost silvery fur of the wolf content to lie in her lap as she watched over it and touched it softly. Beau had to pee and her back was going to hurt like a bitch after this, but it would be a little while yet before she interrupted this moment to discover where her possible friendship with this creature might be headed next.

Jester was due home in about half an hour, Beau realized. She huffed a quiet laugh to herself, prompting nothing more than a twitch of a fluffy ear in response. She needed to text Jester, give her a heads up - not for her friend's own sake, but for the wolf's. If Beau had been an idiot for feeding it and letting it approach, Jester was the exact type of person to take the sight of a wolf sleeping on her best friend as tacit permission to hug it and call it a good girl with complete confidence in her own ability to deal with the consequences. Probably in a very high pitched voice.

Beau loved that about Jester, truly envied her enthusiasm for the world and everything in it, but hugs also felt like the kind of scenario the wolf might like to work up to.

Call it an educated guess.


	4. Sit. Stay. Keep Staying.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beau knew she'd opened up a lot in the couple of years since she'd come here. Dairon requiring her to see a therapist to work for the Soul was probably the best thing they did for her - and that's saying a lot. But still, Beau didn't expect to let on quite so much on the first meeting with Yasha. If it was the first. Could be the second. Definitely not more than the second...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive! I'm sorry! I love you! Today was apparently the good day I was hoping for. I gotta quit obsessing that chapters aren't long enough or cool enough or...enough.

Beau almost wished caffeine worked for her like it did for other people. If it did, she could blame her bouncing knee on it. But if anything it calmed her - always had - so she guessed it was probably nerves. The obvious solution was to drain her cup and see what happened, but honestly she might have overdone it by getting an actual drink instead of a regular black. If caffeine acted like a quick and dirty meditation, sugar on an empty stomach was a jackhammer to the brain.

Beau glanced at her leg and knew it was useless to try and stop it. So she didn't.

She was sitting on a stool at the window bar, trying to look casual as she swept her eyes back and forth over the people passing by in clumps or sudden bursts. She could see the library from here, doors closed and glinting dully in the afternoon clouds. Beau liked her job - actually liked it, for real - but she was looking forward to the next two days of having the house to herself while Jester was away visiting her dad.

Beau's heart leapt - annoying, cliché, did that come with an off switch and who should she consult - before her eyes had really finished processing the figure slipping from the alleyway beside the library. Tall, pale, and wearing a black tank top that showed off muscles that Beau was almost certain must be illegal in some countries, now that she was seeing them properly. She walked up to the crosswalk (as a serial jaywalker, Beau found herself charmed) and waited with eyes that never stopped roaming and never settled on the coffee shop until she'd crossed.

Beau almost leaped off her stool in reflex to meet Yasha at the door, but luckily her brain kicked in gear and told her that there was such a thing as too eager, maybe try and match the energy Yasha was giving off and be cool. So she settled for turning her whole body to face the door, knee bouncing wildly on the bottom bar of the stool, and waved when she saw Yasha come in.

Oh yeah. Way cooler.

If Beau had managed to forget that Yasha was a criminal contact (she hadn't) she would have been reminded then as she watched Yasha take in the room, the people in it, all possible exits, and a bunch of other stuff that Beau could only guess at before finally landing on her.

"Hi." She looked nervous, or something like it.

Beau stopped her knee with effort. "Heya. Sorry, I get bouncy when I'm idle."

"It's cute." Beau flushed red immediately, but Yasha wasn't looking at her now. She'd deposited the compliment the way she might say the wall was green, like it was indisputable fact. For the second time in two meetings, Beau got the sense that she might be in for a ride bigger than she'd expected.

Yasha lifted her chin to Beau's cup. "What are you drinking?"

"Oh, uh. White chocolate mocha." She could've lied. Maybe should've - dark roast would've been a more tasteful pick all around, huh. For the sugar and the cool factor. What if Yasha had opinions on drink types?

Why did she care if Yasha had an opinion on drink types?

Her head tilted a little. "White chocolate mocha." The words sounded new to her. "Okay. Be right back."

Beau's leg started up again as she watched Yasha go, though less intense this time. She looked for any telltale sign of a weapon, any lean to the way she walked that might suggest an absence of a usual weight, but she didn't see anything that gave away much and was forced to look away when Yasha got to the counter and glanced over her shoulder at her. Ugh. Beau was usually smoother at looking without being seen. Dairon would call her sloppy, and they'd be right.

She noticed Yasha paid with cash and put the change in her front pocket. No wallet, and no phone either now that she was looking for it. Odd, but nothing too out there. Mostly she was just extremely attractive, which Beau also noticed as a bit strange because Yasha was neither small not hard to look at, and yet nobody seemed to take the slightest note of her as she walked by their tables or had to turn to slide sideways behind chairs.

Beau was very willing to chalk that one up to bias, though.

"What'd you get?" 

Yasha sidled up beside her and made no move to sit down. Her cup looked like a prop, like she wasn't certain what people regularly did with them but wanted to fit in. "Same as you."

Interesting. Beau glanced outside and back. "You wanna walk and talk?"

She hadn't realized how tense Yasha had been until she visibly relaxed, brows easing and shoulders softening. "Yes," she said emphatically.

"Fuck yeah, let's go." Beau scrambled down and pushed the door open, holding it for Yasha with a dopey little "after you" motion, which was already kind of goofy but then immediately backfired because it was one of those two-door setups that helped keep the wind out and now it was Yasha's turn to hold open the next one.

She didn't make the same motion, but she did hide her face behind her coffee cup and pretend to sip - pretend because Beau knew damn well how hot fresh drinks were from here.

"Ow," Yasha commented mildly as she joined Beau on the sidewalk.

Not pretend then. Okay. Badass.

They started walking, Yasha seeming content to follow Beau's lead. She looked much more at ease out here, her eyes still taking everything in but in a way that suggested more habit than active intent.

"So how long have you been here?" Beau asked.

"In the country?"

Gods, she'd forgotten how bad at this she was. Jester had basically adopted her on sight, and everyone else sort of fell in after. "I meant more the city, but whatever you feel comfortable answering."

They paused at a crossing signal to wait, which was easier with good company. Yasha frowned, thoughtful. "Time is difficult, but I think about seven years in the country and a couple of weeks here in the city."

Two weeks. Too long to have come here specifically to seek out the Soul, not actually long enough in Beau's experience to discover they existed or get in enough trouble to need to. "You visiting or just hanging around for a bit?"

Yasha looked sideways and down at her, smiling in a way Beau couldn't immediately place but that made her feel like they hadn't basically just met twenty minutes ago. "Hoping to stay."

The cross signal lit. Beau reluctantly pulled her eyes away and resumed walking. "You probably can't tell me why you're here," she guessed. "Standard for the people who come to chat with Dairon."

Yasha paused to examine one of the small plots of flowers embedded along the city streets and sidewalks. Beau had no idea what they were. Visual background noise, mostly. "I needed a change of scenery," she said sideways to Beau. "Wasn't good to stay where I was."

Beau watched this tall woman with arm muscles like a statue reach out to touch an orange petal with one hand while holding a white chocolate mocha in the other. "Big time crime?"

She'd meant it as a non-question, a joke even, but Yasha looked haunted suddenly and Beau regretted it instantly. "Many," she said, straightening up again. "Several of them mine. What about you?"

Beau took the offered shift in subject better than she might normally, mostly because she was just grateful Yasha didn't seem upset. "Been in the city two years, grew up in a small town a few hours away." It seemed only fair to offer up something in return after what had clearly been kind of a dick question. She sipped her coffee, which had not improved as it cooled, and kept her eyes forward. "Same, for me. Change of scenery, not good to stay where I was."

Yasha was quiet for a moment, and then she nudged her very gently with her shoulder, skin to skin. Beau was caught completely off guard by an odd impulse to lean into it and just barely managed to keep from doing it. Yasha looked like she didn't quite know how to raise one eyebrow but was doing her best. "Big time crime?"

Beau swallowed and gave her a grin she didn't quite feel. "You know it."

They walked in a silence that managed not to be uncomfortable for a few moments, and Beau enjoyed sneaking glances at Yasha as she took in the various restaurants and little shops they passed from street to street. The library was a bit outside of city proper and Beau had led them further away on impulse, so now she kept them on some of the more populated streets for maximum visual interest. On her own, she might have followed the path from two streets over, closer to the river.

"Were you heading any place in particular?" Yasha asked, after a time. She was looking at Beau now, and she was a little annoyed with herself for missing when that had happened. She'd gotten more comfortable than she realized.

She hadn't had any particular destination in mind, but it suddenly hit her that they were a block from Brenatto's Bakery. "Actually yeah," she said. "I know a place we can sit outside and chat. A favorite hangout of mine. The owner gives me free stuff." She considered. "Sometimes."

Yasha smiled. "Sounds great. Oh, um." She had slowed suddenly, and Beau stopped and turned a couple of paces ahead.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah, just. I might have to go kind of soon?" She reached up and rubbed at her neck, looking bashful. "I'll stay as long as I can, but I wanted to warn you."

Beau remembered the jump she'd seemed to make yesterday at the door, from someone who was casually headed out to someone in a hurry. It hadn't felt personal then and it still didn't now, but her early mention of it intrigued Beau.

"Hey, no pressure," she said. "I won't be out too late myself. I'll grab a snack at Brenatto's and head home to chill out and have the house to myself. Well," she added as they crossed another street. "Me and my dog."

Yasha almost seemed to visibly perk up, but not in the way someone like Jester would. "Your dog?"

Beau shrugged, a little self-conscious suddenly for reasons she couldn't quite fathom. "She's kind of nobody's, actually, but she's been hanging around and seems like she might be coming to trust me a little?" She warmed at the memory of sitting in the yard yesterday, petting the wolf some part of her had begun to think of as hers.

"You have a good heart," Yasha said. The words were mild enough, but they carried a conviction Beau wasn't certain how to place. "I can just tell," she added when Beau looked at her. "And dogs know that stuff too."

"Uh…yeah," said Beau, blushing for no reason. "Thanks. I think she was just hungry mostly, but it still feels good that she's sticking around." Yasha was still looking at her with that weird kind of soft that made Beau's stomach do something funny, so she turned her gaze as nonchalantly as she could towards the train station a street over. "You a dog person then?"

She heard the telltale shoe scuff of someone about to trip on a sidewalk crack and threw her arm out even before she'd finished turning. Yasha just managed to catch herself without needing to grab onto Beau and flashed her a quick, tight smile. "Sorry. I'm not always great at walking and drinking at the same time."

Beau lowered her hand and flexed her fingers. "Yeah. Yeah, I get it. You uh, get used to it. I tripped a bunch my first couple months here. Not a lot of sidewalks where I grew up."

Yasha nodded, face faintly pink. "Makes sense. And yes, I do like dogs. They like me, anyway."

"I had one once when I was a kid," Beau said. Brenatto's was just up ahead, sunset sliding slowly over the top corner of it. "He was a birthday present, one of those little Jack Russells you know. The ones that zoom around and jump really high."

He'd come up in therapy a couple of times, both Jack and her dad, but it was easier to keep it light these days. "He needed a better home than we could give him, though. I gave him to a friend." The lie came easily; she had given Jack away, but under cover of night to an animal shelter worker from the next town over. She'd told her parents he ran away.

"That's pretty responsible for a kid," Yasha said quietly.

Beau blinked. "Sure. Just seemed like the right call." She took a deep breath and looked anywhere but at Yasha. "Anyway, I'm better able to take care of this one and she's super sweet, so I'm hoping she'll keep hanging around and maybe we can like, keep bonding and stuff."

She saw Yasha smile out of the corner of her eye. "I hope so."

Beau had been so caught up in telling the right parts of her story that she'd forgotten they were holding coffee cups with DaVinci's logo printed on the grip. She glanced nervously from the door of Brenatto's to Yasha. "Hey uh…how much coffee you got left in there?"

"Most of it, why?"

It was too late to dispose of either of them - they'd been spotted. "No reason," said Beau. "Just uh. Brace yourself."

The door flew open and Veth Brenatto stood at the top of the steps, doorknob height and her arms folded. Beau dimly registered Yasha moving closer to her, but her attention was on the halfling woman stomping down the steps to glare up at her. "Did you seriously pay money for that shit?"

Beau grimaced. "I needed an easy meeting spot and it felt rude to just sit there and not buy anything."

Veth scoffed hard. "Where were those manners when you showed up here?"

Beau could feel her mouth pulling of its own volition and did her best to keep a straight face. "You had to teach them to me, remember?"

"Oh fuck off." Veth turned to Yasha. "Hi! You must be Beau's date."

Let the earth open and swallow her whole. "I never -"

Veth cut off her protest with that air of officiousness that told Beau it was absolutely pointless to keep trying.

"Jester's told me all about what Beau told her about you. I'm Veth, and I run this place. You're Tasha, right?"

"Yasha," Beau whispered furiously through the hand over her face.

  
Veth ignored her.

"Close enough," said Yasha, looking like she might be trying to hold it together. "Beau was just telling me we were heading to her favorite spot." Gods bless Yasha. "She said you give her free stuff sometimes."

Never mind. Any time that hole wanted to show up, Beau was more than ready, actually.

Veth turned to Beau. "Oh I like her."

"Fuck me running," Beau groaned. "Don't you have customers or something?"

"Yeah. You," said Veth. "You can pay for your bread since you have money to burn." She paused halfway up the stairs and turned back to Yasha. "Not you though, pick out anything you like."

"It's a vanity business," Beau whispered to Yasha as Veth disappeared inside. "She's loaded and runs this place because she likes to bake and wanted a huge place to do it."

"Oh," said Yasha. "That's really neat."

"Yeah," said Beau as they climbed the blue wooden steps. "She gives most of it away. Kept me fed when I first got here."

"Ah." Yasha said it so quietly that Beau wasn't certain she was meant to hear it, but before she could decide how to react she heard her name called from the back of the kitchen in Caleb's familiar accent.

Beau remembered to check for patrons before returning a one-finger wave, and he just laughed, holding up limp dough in his flour-encrusted hands. "Is that…" Beau pointed and raised her eyebrows.

"There's already some cooling," he called.

"You're the best," Beau returned, and the finger she gave him this time was her thumb. "Come on," she said to Yasha. "You've gotta try this bread. If you like bread. Is that a thing people who haven't met Veth have opinions on?"

Yasha smiled, and Beau noticed that she didn't look nearly as hesitant in here as she had in the first coffee shop. Come to think of it, Beau felt better here too. Maybe it was the conversation. "I like bread," Yasha confirmed. "Even better when it is fresh."

Veth told Beau to stuff it when she pulled out her cash, so she shrugged and dropped it in the tip jar with a grin before leaving with a wave to join Yasha at an outdoor table. Evening was coming on quickly now, and the lights strung over the open seating flicked on as Beau handed Yasha her bread and a cup of water and sat across from her.

"Thanks," said Yasha, but she looked faraway as her eyes roamed far down the street towards the horizon and the clouds beginning to color with sunset. Her hand was wrapped around the back of her neck, violet eye gone orange with brightness.

Beau pinched off a bit of her bread and tried to watch without staring openly. "You have to go soon?"

She'd tried to keep the question light, but Yasha's gaze cleared with a little start. "Yes, I'm sorry." She turned to Beau and opened her bread. "But I think I've got a few more minutes to spend here. You said this was rosemary?"

Beau was surprised at how disappointed the thought of Yasha leaving made her, but she pushed it aside and nodded. "It's like. It doesn't even do all that much to the bread flavor really, but it's somehow more amazing."

Yasha lifted the bread and sniffed it gently, and suddenly Beau was nervous. What if she hated it? Why would it matter if she did? She felt a spike of old, familiar discomfort and boxed it up for later processing as Yasha took a small bite of her bread and blinked, surprised.

"Oh wow."

Beau's muscles relaxed and she grinned. "Good, right?"

Yasha spared only a noise of pleased affirmation as she took another, bigger bite and chewed it slowly. They spent a few minutes in companionable silence and Beau realized she wasn't certain how to bring up the possibility of meeting again. Embarrassing - everyone else she knew had been rehearsing for this stuff since sixth grade.

But she wanted to, and there wasn't really a point trying to guess if Yasha did too when she could ask her.

"Hey, um." Beau hadn't clocked Yasha as tired, but there was no mistaking it when she hid it to look back up to her. "Did you uh. Would you want to meet up again, maybe? It's no pressure or anything, just if you have to go soon, I -"

"Yes." Now that Beau had noticed the exhaustion, she could see it all over Yasha's face in spite of her smile. "I would like to see more of you, Beau."

Again, Beau felt that strange sense of rarity at that smile, that she'd achieved something without meaning to. Yasha looked less like a super secret criminal contact now and more like your average jacked woman shyly navigating the idea of some kind of new relationship. Beau would be lying if she said the warmth evident in the way Yasha said her name wasn't strangely comforting, too.

  
"Cool," said Beau, and she didn't completely manage to hide the sigh of relief in her voice. "If you don't carry a phone, would it be easier to maybe meet me after work sometime and we can figure it out from there?"

Yasha rubbed at the back of her neck. "You really are Dairon's," she said absently, then seemed to pull herself back to the present. "Yes, I can meet you outside the library roughly after work."

"Bad with time, right." Beau wasn't sure why her face had warmed slightly at Yasha's observation, but she didn't hate it. "Is Friday good?"

Yasha's brow furrowed. "I have a meeting with Dairon that day, and that will take most of the time I have. Is Saturday alright?"

Again the phrasing struck Beau as odd, and again she set it aside for later. "Saturday's fine, yeah. I think there's actually a festival uptown that day, if you wanna go."

Yasha nodded. "That sounds like fun."

Beau wasn't certain Yasha had entirely heard her, which was at odds with the sincerity in her acceptance. Beau could have said "deep sea diving" and received the same response. What did that mean?

She took in the way Yasha's fingers on the table were slowly curling and uncurling. She was pretty sure she knew what that meant, at least. "You uh…you have to go, don't you?"

A gentle breeze rustled Yasha's hair as she pulled her eyes back to Beau's general vicinity. "Yes," she said. "I'm sorry." She sounded like she meant it.

Yasha started to stand, and Beau lifted a hand in a dismissal that came off more casual than she felt. "You warned me, don't worry about it. Thanks for hanging out with me today."

Her gaze cleared at that. "The pleasure was all mine, believe me."

And Beau did.

She watched Yasha walk down one street - without waiting for the signal to cross - and then turn the opposite direction of any train or bus station.

Beau gathered the bag and the empty cup from across the table and finished her last bite of bread, staring a moment longer at the place Yasha had been. She was a little weird, definitely hiding something, but that was true about most of the kinds of people who showed up looking for Dairon.

But none of them had ever talked to her like they knew her, or really took any notice of her at all besides what she could do for them. And that was fine, because Beau had never seen someone come out of Dairon's office who had caught her like that. Actually, it had been years since anyone caught her eye and held it like that - and she definitely hadn't been scouting for dates then.

Beau drained her cup and carried everything to the trash can, turning to wave at Caleb through the window as she headed home. Nothing to do but meet up again and see where they went.

* * *

Her wolf was waiting this time on the porch by the door, tail tapping lightly over her paws and looking somehow pleased with herself. This time Beau didn't slow until she was a few feet away, holding her hand out and pulling the screen open with the other.

The wolf stepped forward and dropped her huge muzzle into Beau's hand, tongue dangling and dampening her wrist as she panted.

"What have you been up to?" Beau asked amicably. "You look like you've been playing." The wolf yawned hugely, showing off a huge pink maw and dozens of sharp white teeth. "You're disturbingly cute for having that many knives in your mouth, you know that?" She stepped up into the house and paused, looking back.

The wolf sat and sniffed at the gap between Beau and the door. She and Jester had tried to coax it in last night, but it seemed reluctant. Even now, that black nose snuffled close but not too close, and Beau stayed very still as she watched.

"Do you…want to try it?" She asked. "I promise I'll let you back out if you want." Probably the house would be covered in dog hair. Probably the wolf smelled like dirt and mud and things it liked to kill in the woods. Beau didn't really care. Cleaning was no big deal, and having this friendly wolf in her house with her suddenly seemed like some kind of final test. If Beau could get her to trust her enough to come in, she had truly made a friend - however wild and standoffish.

"It's alright," she said. "You don't have to. I still think you're pretty neat." Beau let the screen fall closed just enough to brush the wolf's muzzle and was surprised when it shrugged its great head to throw it open again, stood up, and walked right in. Beau blinked. "Ah. Okay. Welcome home, I guess."

Beau made sure the screen latched quietly and turned the light on to the living area to watch the wolf as it stood and sniffed around, tail tip twitching. It took a few more steps inside and looked back at Beau, ears swiveling but eyes calm and alert. Beau got the sense the next move was hers, and she was beginning to get used to the way it seemed to project intent. Possibly it was Beau's intent, actually, but whatever it was, it had been going well for her so far.

She worked her shoes off and headed down the hall to her room, keeping an eye over her shoulder as the wolf padded along behind with none of the hesitance it had shown on the porch. "In for a penny, huh?" She shed her bag and dropped it by the bed and then collapsed backwards on it with a satisfying thump. Looking down her body, she saw the wolf standing in front of her feet with its mouth open, studying her.

It pushed forward suddenly and laid its head on Beau's stomach, and she could feel air moving with the gentle swish of that tail. She reached down and gently stroked an ear, smiling when the wolf's response was to lean in and snuffle at her arm.

"So there's a wolf in my house," she said to the ceiling. "A whole entire wolf. How is this not the craziest thing that's ever happened to me?" She blinked. "How is it not the craziest thing to happen to me this afternoon?"

She looked down at the wolf, who licked her arm helpfully. "You wanna tell me what flavor of fucked up it is that a really sweet jacked woman wanting to hang out with me is somehow higher on my weird scale than letting a wild animal in my house?" The wolf pushed its head against her arm and made a low whining sound, more restless than anything.

"I mean I feel like we worked to get to this point, don't you?" she continued. "I was a little scared of you, you were a little scared of me, you could still take my arm off without warning…please don't by the way. I need that. Dairon already kicks my ass with two." As an afterthought, Beau patted her bedspread and smiled when the wolf pulled itself up immediately. "Yeah, you definitely strike me as a house dog. House wolf. Wow that's a weird concept."

Through it all, she rubbed between the wolf's ears and turned her head when that questing nose got too close to her mouth. Within a minute, the wolf turned two circles and flopped into a ball with a huge, long sigh. "Me too," Beau remarked. "Today's been a ride."

The wolf, being a wolf, did not reply. Beau watched the fur of its ribs rise and fall as it breathed. "I think I'll call you Wolf, if that's cool. Just. Gotta call you something, but you're not really mine. That work for you?"

An ear twitched.

"Awesome. Welcome home, Wolf." This time, it didn't feel so uncertain to say.

She lay there quietly for another minute and remembered. "But fair warning, Jester is gonna call you like, so many names. Don't take it personally. She's a serial adopter. It's not binding unless you want it to be." Wolf's tail twitched, and so did Beau's mouth. "Or unless she does."


	5. Festivities and Findings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lovely afternoon at the street fair with Yasha, and a very enlightening chat with Jester about Wolf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last night I posted one long chapter instead of two short ones. Tonight, I'm doing the opposite! But hopefully that means the next chapter will be here sharpish. We'll see.

The festival was amazing - Beau had never really gotten to show someone the kinds of goings-on she'd become accustomed to in the two years she had been here, and Yasha made an excellent and enthusiastic spectator of all the city had to offer. In the sea of bright colors and sounds and tastes, she was a roughly monochromatic contrast, a kind of sinkhole pulling Beau's eyes to her again and again. At the coffee shop, Yasha had given Beau the impression she was trying to blend in with how everyone else was behaving. Here, perched on a curb and pausing between bites of whatever new food she'd stolen a piece of from Beau to pet literally every dog that passed, she looked all at once overwhelmed and relaxed.

Which was even better to see, because she hadn't started out that way. She'd met the festivities first with caution, as though an increase in people equaled a quantifiable increase in threat. For all Beau knew, it did. She had almost decided to lead Yasha away to someplace quieter, but then they'd found the fried ice cream cart and the day really kicked off. 

Beau drummed her toes absentmindedly against the insides of her shoes and took a moment to marvel at the chaos and how it calmed her. It was the atmosphere of celebration for her - with all of the smiles and movement around them, Beau felt a kind of equilibrium, the sense that the chaos of her mind and the chaos around her had come to some kind of agreement.

Outside of whatever watchful habits criminal contacts tended to pick up, Yasha didn't strike Beau as the kind of person who dealt with quite the same velocity of thoughts and possibilities. Once she stopped looking over her shoulder, she was content to take the world as it came and deal with what was directly in front of her. And there was so much to deal with today.

"What is this?" Beau turned with a mouth full of hot dog to find that Yasha had gotten up without her noticing, standing a few feet away and peering eagerly at a food cart they hadn't reached yet.

"Piroshky," Beau managed. She swallowed and scrambled up to move closer. "Did you seriously already finish your hot dog?"

Yasha waved her hand dismissively without looking. "They go down fast. What's a proskee?"

Beau was slipping into the rhythm of things, having already explained chalk drawings, trombones, and mosh pits (and spending several seconds trying to hastily add that the latter weren't the kinds of things you could do at street festivals) in the last thirty minutes alone.

Beau tapped the picture on the side of the cart three times. "Dough. Meat filling. Heat."

Yasha frowned. "So was the hot dog."

"All the best foods follow the formula. You get used to it." Beau popped the last of the hot dog in her mouth and tossed the plate in the trash before continuing. "It's all in what kinds of meat and dough you use, how you spice it, and the way you heat it. Never thought to compare a hot dog and piroshky though, thanks for that."

Yasha barely heard her, eyes tracking the paper cone a customer received from the open window before wandering off.

"Is this your first street fair?" Beau wasn't fishing, exactly - it was a question she would have legitimately asked anyone who looked as close to pulling a muscle in their neck as Yasha did in trying to take in all of the sights and sounds at once.

"I have been in the crowd of such things, but I…" Her gaze refocused halfway through whatever she was going to say, and she looked at Beau apologetically.

"Business, not pleasure," she guessed. Yasha nodded shortly. Beau wasn't certain she wanted to know what business a criminal contact might have had in a crowded street but she was certain she didn't want anything to spoil this day so she shoved the thoughts away and said, "Have you ever had funnel cake?"

An hour found them sprawled in relative solitude under a few trees, a street or two over from the main ruckus. The sounds of the festival were very much still audible, but muter now and fighting with the lapping of the water on the shore below.

"There's so much of it," Yasha said in a kind of awe. The light reflecting from the waves was bouncing across their faces in a kind of sparkling wave, making Yasha's eyes dance in their different colors as she took it all in with a kind of breathlessness that made Beau feel simultaneously enchanted and somehow sad, like it was nailing her suddenly what kind of life must have kept Yasha just on this side of a world where she could look but not touch.

"Yeah, it looks like an ocean. If you hang around, you'll get to see how cool it looks when it freezes." There wasn't much to like about winters here, but the lake at the very least looked badass.

There was a little ice cream (regular, not fried) dried on the corner of Yasha's lip, and for the life of her Beau couldn't figure out what about that of all things was drawing her eye. She was caught off guard when Yasha's eyes met hers, seeming somehow lit from the inside by the thrashing of sparkling lines over her face.

"Did you know you can get sunburned from the water's reflection?" Beau had no idea where the words came from or why they were all she could think to say, but Yasha's face just split into a smile that was starting to look quite familiar already in its heaviness.

"Is that experience talking?"

Beau nodded, determined to stay upbeat even as her heart sank. "My first summer here, I went for a run in the morning and thought I would be smart and stick to the shade. I stopped like this to sit under a tree for a while and just look at the water, and then when I got home I had a face and shoulders full of pain." She shrugged, apparently not quite finished dumping out her brain. "I got a really nice tan out of it eventually, but that was the weirdest reason to spend two days with a damp towel and a fan on me."

Yasha's face morphed into thoughtfulness. "Is there another reason someone would do that?"

She had a point. "I mean the AC went out once, and that was the only way me n' Jester could stay cool during the day. I don't actually know if that's a weirder reason than sunburn."

Yasha's thoughtful tongue poked out to chase away the smudge of ice cream, and somehow the disappearance of the mark carried with a sense of finality. Yasha's eyes were far off for a moment, but she seemed to pull herself back and took a deep breath.

"You have to go soon," Beau guessed before she spoke.

"Yes." The white tips of her hair stirred in the constant breeze as it washed over them, making her look like a mournful character in one of Jester's anime shows, which Beau would never own up to watching but often did. "But I wanted to tell you something before I do." Beau must have looked concerned, because Yasha's eyes slid sideways to her as she added, "Nothing terrible, just ah…a heads up?"

Beau nodded, rallying her enthusiasm. "Is this the part where you tell me you're on the run from a secret government conspiracy and you have to 'go away for a while' for my own safety?"

Yasha looked at her seriously. "I promise, there is no government involved."

Something icy slithered down Beau's spine as she laughed nervously. "I was one hundred percent kidding, but in hindsight I think maybe I expected something like that for real with the whole criminal thing. Is it…are you really going away?"

"Not for long," Yasha said confidently. "And I'm not certain exactly what day I'll have to go. But I probably won't be able to see you next week, and I didn't want you to think it was because…there's a reason, that's all. I've already told Dairon not to expect me next Friday."

Beau nodded slowly. "Can I ask if it's…like are you okay? You look over your shoulder so much, like you have to see everything just in case - is there anything I can help with, or?"

The muscles in Yasha's arms flexed as she pulled a knee up to her chest and rested her cheek on it to look at Beau. "You're so quick to assume I should be the one you help."

Beau's mouth was dry, but she tried for a shrug. "Well, you're the one I know and you seem pretty alright."

"We've met three times, none of them for as long as we'd like." It was an observation made with a tint of self-deprecation, not a refutation.

Beau splayed her hand dramatically on her chest. "I happen to be an excellent judge of character, I'll have you know."

There was such an affection and sadness in the look Yasha gave her now that Beau felt a little like she was falling. She was struck again by the same strange feeling that this woman she'd known for only a handful of hours had somehow known her far longer.

It all made her think of some of the sci-fi books she'd subsisted on as a kid - someone giving up memories of their friend or their loved one to save the world or something, real high stakes stuff. And then at the end, the one left to remember it all for the both of them would come find the hero as a stranger to them in their new life, just to make sure they were doing okay. Throw in a couple of cryptic remarks and a sad smile, end scene.

The way Yasha was looking at her made Beau kind of understand how that must feel from the point of view of the person who lost all their memories. She felt out of step - like there was information between them she couldn't grasp but once knew. It should have frustrated her but only served to make her want to know more.

"I have no doubt in your judgment," Yasha said quietly, bringing Beau back to the present. "But character does not overwrite actions."

Beau had been friends with Caleb for long enough to spot a spiral when she saw one, and Yasha was perched at the edge of one now. "Hey." Yasha glanced up in mild surprise. "I knew what I might be getting into when I first talked to you. And yeah, I've only just met you, but nobody who goes to town that happily on street fair food and somehow makes every dog pull at their leash to let you pet them can be all bad. You said it yourself. Dogs know that shit. It's science."

Yasha actually laughed at that, the sound more of a sharp exhale that bounced. It didn't make Beau feel any less accomplished, though - or any less mixed-up. "Maybe you're right," she said, and for a moment she looked like she might even be considering it. But the soft look faded and she sobered again, shaking her head a little like she was clearing it. "Anyway, I will be fine and back before you know it."

Beau grinned a little crookedly. "Wow, is that a reassurance?"

A measured stare, not unkind. "If you needed one, then yes."

Did she? Beau was surprised to feel some kind of knot undoing itself a little at the confidence in Yasha's words. She might have pondered for longer, but Yasha stood then and Beau hastily set her train of thought to the side.

"Hang on." Yasha looked down at her, some part of her retreating even though her body was holding still for the moment. Beau talked fast. "Is this a thing we're doing now? Like on weekends?"

The smile Yasha gave her didn't reach her eyes, but it seemed no less sincere. "Keep an eye out for me after work for now, and we'll piece something together if -" she trailed off, though whether from distraction or super secret criminal backstory Beau wasn't certain.

But she was pretty confident she knew where that sentence was headed and picked up the slack with a nod. "I want to, yeah. If you do."

"Okay," said Yasha. Her voice was barely audible over the sounds of festival still washing over them from two streets away. She lifted a hand. "Bye."

"Til next time," Beau called as she turned, and there was no way to be certain but she thought Yasha might have nodded.

Beau watched her lope out of sight and kept watching for another minute before turning back to look at the empty ice cream cups and the foam plate they were weighing down. Next time, she was gonna have Yasha dump stuff in the trash on the way out.

Next time.

Beau closed her eyes and focused on the feeling of the wind over the shaved sides of her head. She'd done a lot of work in the last two years on handling what it felt like to be out of control of something, on finding the balance between getting so attached to people that it scared her and refusing to get attached at all in case they left. But she'd been hanging with the same group of people pretty much since she got here, so a lot of that improvement had been theoretical. This was putting all that work into practice.

She looked out again at the spot where Yasha had turned and carefully weighed her equilibrium before probing gently at the place inside of her where the hurt lived when it came. It had helped her, early on, to try and anchor emotions to a physical place in her body. They felt more manageable contained to one spot, easier to hold apart from herself and examine.

She did so now and was unsurprised to find the seeds of worry starting to take hold. She'd expected that on some level - it fit with the strange sort of instant attraction she'd felt upon seeing Yasha for the first time. Something that came on that fast was bound to come with a few nerves.

No, the worry didn't surprise her. But the level of intrigue and genuine…affection? That didn't feel quite right. Whatever it was felt like a tint, something that affected the makeup of that instant attraction and bent it into a category outside of the purely physical. Possibly it was just the freshness of it all. The break from normal, the thrill of secrets and the old siren song of a thread leading somewhere deep.

It was true that Beau was painfully curious about Yasha and the factors that went into her odd behavior, but that was something she could quantify. It was separate still from the sort of familiar ache she was turning over and over in her mind. She seized the feeling and started checking it against memories, trying to place where she'd felt it before.

Eyes closed and light dancing over her, Beau let her mind drift. There was a time this would have been dangerous - letting her thoughts rise as they would. Time and practice had made her better at sitting outside of them, of resisting the urge to participate in every passing memory or idea. If she stayed very still, she could usually find connections that evaded her chasing. Like butterflies that could also wreck your whole afternoon if you weren't careful.

On the third breath, Beau found herself thinking distantly of Jack. That made sense - not only was there a lifetime of shit to unpack from such a brief experience, she had brought him up to Yasha three days ago. There was a time when this batch of thoughts and emotions had been impossible to stare directly at, and even as she considered it now, she could feel the pull of anger and helplessness and a hundred other feelings.

Another deep breath, and then she allowed the memory to unravel. Detached but curious, an outside observer. That was the key.

It didn't take long to find the link. Thinking of Jack was really just a smokescreen for thinking of her father - the only question was usually whether she was here for the dog, her father, or her younger self. On bad days, it was all three.

This time, it was the image of Thoreau with his hand raised just slightly in warning over the little dog, that feeling of helplessness that had washed over Beau as Jack had cringed away. She'd been too young, maybe, to wrestle with the idea of her father requiring total obedience. That came later. At the time, all she'd known was that Jack couldn't live with her and stay Jack. She couldn't protect him. The moment that became clear - that ache she felt at knowing what she had to do - that was familiar. That was the link. 

Beau opened her eyes, breathed again. Her mind wanted to stay inside of the success of matching the feelings, to roll around in the satisfaction of making sense of something, but Beau had all the information she needed and forced herself to her feet as the old despair broke harmlessly over her, rubbing the heels of her hands into her eyes. Anticipation of loss. Standing at the beginning of something good and seeing the end. Hello again, old impulse.

It was good information to work with, she reminded herself, and just that - information, not direction. She blinked the spots out of her eyes and got to work picking up the trash, setting aside the realization for later examination. For the millionth time, Beau sent up a silent thanks to her therapist and to Dairon for stipulating she get one as a requirement of the job. Being able to dive into her own thoughts and extract information from them instead of getting dragged under and spiraling might be the single most valuable skill she'd ever learned.

But sometimes retrieval came with a demand that she find a way to release the dregs of old emotion, and she could feel the urge resting in her as she tossed the trash in a nearby can and considered the distance between where she was and the bus stop that would take her home. There were only four train stations between here and there - half a mile, maybe.

Ugh. She'd never taken to running, but the gym was farther in towards the library and Beau was very much looking forward to going home and collapsing with Jester.

And Wolf, she remembered. Caleb had offered to come over today and examine her for magic, and a quick check of her phone showed no new messages. Odd. Possibly Wolf had decided to stay outside today - her preferences seemed to vary, and Jester hadn't yet been able to coax her inside alone.

Intrigued by the silence where she might have once been worried, Beau inhaled and pushed off towards home.

* * *

The driveway wasn't terribly long, but Beau ran down its length anyway when she hopped off the bus - just for the heck of it. A quick sweep showed no Wolf in the yard, but when she pulled the door open it was to find her curled up on the couch with her head in Jester's lap.

"Oh hey! She came in for you."

Jester's eyes practically had stars in them, her voice a vocal whisper. "I'm. So. Happy." In spite of her obvious excitement, her hand kept a steady, slow rhythm over Wolf's head. Wolf's ears twitched as she rolled her eyes up towards Beau, and her tail rustled from its position up against her body.

Beau approached and held out a hand to scratch her cheek when she pressed it in. "Hey, Wolf. How ya doin'?"

Wolf licked the inside of her arm and settled in further, looking…odd, somehow, if at least a little pleased to have Beau touching her.

Beau turned to Jester. "How'd it go today? I kept expecting a text and never got one. That's weird for you."

Jester blinked as though she'd just remembered something vaguely embarrassing. It was a look Beau knew all too well and could precede anything from "oh yeah a package came for you - two weeks ago" to "I set the kitchen on fire making bagels again." Beau fervently hoped this was a simple "forgot to text," but it seemed unlikely - especially when Jester started chewing her bottom lip. "Jes?"

Jester looked up at her. "Don't be mad."

Beau frowned. "I'm never mad at you." Not really. Not at her. And not for a long time.

"Not at me, at Wolf." Jester looked down at the soft white fur under her hand and scratched gently. "We found out we shouldn't touch her neck."

Yeah, that sounded suspiciously close to the kitchen fire end of the scale. "Found out how?"

"It was my fault," Jester prefaced. "I scared her."

There weren't many possible conclusions to draw from that. "Did she bite you?"

"No!" Jester looked distraught now. "It was just a nip. It was fine. Besides, she's sorry."

Their position on the couch made more sense now, somehow. The same intent that had led to Beau noticing and trying to befriend this wolf in the first place was here now in the way she had come in for Jester and curled up with her, how she held very still and watched Beau not with defensive guard, but clear worry. Beau could see the whites behind the brown, noticed the way Wolf's ears tilted just a bit towards the back.

Beau knew the expected response here. It would be completely reasonable for her to see this as a sign that Wolf should stay outside, that as much as the three of them wanted this to work there were simply behaviors that didn't line up for it to be possible.

But Jester was a healer, in theory, and Wolf had only done more _literally_ to Jester what Beau had done figuratively, early on. It ate at her to see this giant dog looking at her the way Jack had looked at her father, made her stomach roll to recognize the anticipation of something bad. Wolf looked braced, resigned even, and Beau wanted nothing more than to drive away that body language and keep it away forever.

She knelt slowly so that she was eye level with Wolf and brought her hand up gently from below. "I'm not mad," she said, more to Wolf than Jester. "I've bitten Jester too, and she kept me."

Wolf licked at her hand, watching Beau as she took in her tone and inflection if not her words. She pushed a paw out to pull herself forward, chin pressed against Jester's knees and ears down. If she'd been standing, Beau thought, the tail curled tightly against her body would likely be between her legs.

Beau kept her hand off to the side, open and relaxed. "Hey. It's really okay. We know you like us. You've had a million chances to tear my dumb ass apart, that's for sure." Wolf's muzzle slid from Jester's lap into Beau's hand, pink tongue washing over the inside of her forearm as she scratched her gently. "Yeah," she said. "Me and Jes are real tough. It's not good for anything if we can't handle a couple of bumps, you know?"

Jester rubbed Wolf between the ears. "I told you she wouldn't be mad."

Beau brought her other hand up to stroke one furry ear. "You know she couldn't understand that."

"You literally just talked to her too," Jester huffed. "Besides, she's really smart. Like even for a smart dog. Maybe she could hear me and she just didn't believe me."

Beau smiled softly. "Yeah, I do like talking to her. She definitely looks like she can understand me sometimes." She glanced up at Jester. "What did Caleb have to say?"

Jester hesitated. "He's pretty sure she's not magical."

Beau blinked. "Pretty sure?"

"She ran away when he started the spell. She only came back a little before you did."

Wolf made a low groaning noise and half rolled over in Jester's lap to settle more comfortably. Beau's mind was turning over and over even as the sight of Wolf relaxing made the knot in her stomach release. She felt oddly absolved, which was stupid. There wouldn't be anything to forgive - she was never going to behave the same way her father did. If only she could make Wolf understand _that._

But uncanny comprehension or no, it seemed more and more like nothing was destined to go normally with her new friend. "Kind of sounds like something a magic wolf would do," she said reluctantly.

Jester nodded. "Caleb thought that too at first, but she didn't have a problem with all the little spells I do around her. Just the ones he tried."

"Ones that would touch her," Beau guessed.

"Caleb thinks whoever hurt her must have used some of the kind of magic he does." Jester looked down at Wolf, who nuzzled closer. "She wouldn't let me heal her either at first. Not until I healed myself. She kind of…sniffed? Do you think she can smell magic?"

Beau thought of all the times Jester had patched her up after a long training session with Dairon or when she inevitably did something stupid, the aura of the magic as it slipped between her muscles and closed her skin. It felt…blue. Like an injection of a fresh bowl of macaroni and cheese - the cheap kind, the real good comfort food. 

"I don't know about smell, but I know magic definitely feels different from everyone. I guess it would make sense if that was something she could smell." A vaguely unpleasant thought occurred to her. "Maybe she was trained to sniff out magic. Like someone used her for that."

There were a few reasons she could think of for why someone would want a magic-sniffing dog, and none of them were great when combined with Wolf's behavior. Something worth considering.

But later. Right now, she had a wolf to soothe.

She scruffed Wolf under the chin with a little more force, and Wolf's head rolled around to take Beau's arm gently between her teeth. She made that low groan again and wiggled a little against the couch with a huff.

Beau smiled. "Are you playing?" She leaned back out of the way of a massive paw and jostled her arm in Wolf's mouth. Wolf responded with a gnaw much softer than the teeth Beau had seen would suggest her capable of, and Beau grasped her nose with her other hand and gave it a quick, gentle shake.

Wolf sneezed and twitched fully onto her stomach, paws braced and body flat.

"Oh shit," said Beau, and she was laughing when Wolf sprang from the couch and headbutted her flat to the floor. Her tongue was merciless on Beau's face, damp nose poking into her neck, her shoulder, her ear as Beau giggled and pushed uselessly at her face. "Okay, okay! Fuck, one less thing I have to wash in the shower I guess." Wolf sat back on her haunches and panted slightly, eyes bright as Beau pulled herself upright and ruffled the top of her head.

"I think you have to wash your face _more_ now," Jester said.

"Nah." Beau took Wolf's head in her hands and kissed her nose, earning another lick on her own. "Dogs have like, super clean mouths."

Wolf, helpfully, picked that moment to sneeze again.

Beau scrunched her whole face belatedly closed and turned away as Jester cackled. "Nevermind. Washing it twice now. Maybe washing it until the hot water runs out. Or the sun." She cracked one eye warily at the sensation of Wolf's breath on her cheek. Her eyes were even brighter, ears forward. "I know that look," said Beau. "Don't you dare." 

She scrambled blindly to her feet as Wolf lunged to lick earnestly at her face, sputtering protests until she was finally able to stand up out of range (barely - she got the sense she'd been _allowed_ to break free somehow) and stagger towards the shower. Jester's laughter followed her all the way down the hall.

"Yeah, yeah," Beau called back, wiping her face with her arm. "Just means she likes me!"

Jester's giggles subsided briefly. "Maybe you're just stinky and salty."

Beau grinned and pushed open the bathroom door. "Damn right."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: more quality time with Dairon.


	6. Brainstorming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yasha told Beau she'd would be unavailable this week, but she got no such heads up from Wolf. Not her fault, really, she's...a wolf. But the culmination of Beau's thought patterns over the last few days and some gloomy weather make Wolf's independence a little harder to swallow. Dairon's got a couple of ideas to distract her and some thoughts of their own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, have an unusually long chapter! My writing habits are definitely shifting as the weather warms, but it's not all bad.

Beau woke up with the odd certainty that something was incorrect somehow. She switched off her alarm before it could get loud and rolled back over to stare at the ceiling, feeling sleep-stupid and unrested in a way that hadn't been the norm for a long time as her mind slowly roused itself to try and fill her in on what might be wrong. She could vaguely feel whatever dream she'd been having as though it had vanished quickly enough to leave a negative of itself in its wake. Something stressful, involving...trees? They weren't doing anything that she could recall. There were just a lot of them and the overwhelming sense that she needed to be inside their cover.

She yawned. Brains, man.

The sky outside of Beau's window was overcast, the air in the house feeling closer to the skin and somehow damp as Beau pulled herself from under the covers and blearily sat on the edge of her bed. It had stormed last night, she remembered. Usually she slept _better_ when it rained, but maybe Wolf had been restless.

Wolf.

Beau turned to look behind her even as the sensation of wrongness solidified into the realization that she was missing something physical. Her bed was conspicuously devoid of one giant pile of warmth and fur, a kind of glaring blankness where she had been curled up in the night. It wasn't weird that she'd woken up _without_ a wolf in her bed, Beau reminded herself. Aside from the obvious, Wolf had only stayed inside overnight twice. The weird feeling came from something far more practical - remembering how comfortably Wolf had been pressed against her and wondering how such a big dog had woken and climbed off the bed without waking her.

Jester had probably let Wolf out, she decided, though why she'd be up before Beau on a Tuesday was another question itself. Jester's class wasn't until eleven, and she was almost always up past two in the morning. Being up at eight wasn't in her routine. Beau got up and started dressing with a soft groan, rubbing one eye as her mind worked on its new puzzle in the background.

Her door looked normal, pushed closed but not latched, and Beau pulled it open to stick her head out and look around. The house seemed extra gloomy and silent in the dregs of the night's storm, all of the carpets and art frames on the walls looking alien and strange in the lack of sunlight. Quite a dreary official welcome for summer.

"Jes?" Beau kept her voice low, but it hit the quiet air and died so suddenly that she suspected it almost wouldn't matter if she'd called out for real. No light came from under Jester's door, and it definitely looked shut.

Weird.

Beau ducked back into her room to grab her bag and pull her hair up with an unconscious speed born of habit and headed down the hall to the equally dim and unfriendly-looking living room and kitchen. She flipped the light on as the sky gave a quiet, sullen grumble, slipping her shoes on before pulling open the sliding glass door to take a proper look outside.

Green leaves were strewn in pale-bottomed clusters across the yard, and the trees swayed quietly in the choking warmth of the wind blowing through them. For eight in the morning, it looked closer to six. In Beau's experience, that meant more storms coming.

But she was thinking less about weather and more about vanishing wolves as she looked around, checking for paw prints in the mud or any indication of where a giant heated blanket of a dog might have gone. Her voice when she called for Wolf carried further but seemed insignificant in the damp and the oppressively low sky, and the way the wind picked up slightly felt like a forlorn response.

Beau scratched at the back of her neck and sighed, giving up and heading back inside. She was making a bigger deal of this than it was. It would be easiest just to text Jester and wait until she got a reply later at work.

* * *

Another storm did in fact break a couple of hours later, a real summer special. Fat drops of rain drummed against the outside of the library and drowned out the whisper of pages turning and computer keys clicking from the big open space that stretched in front of the reference desk. Sometimes it picked up into a dull roar that took over Beau's thoughts entirely, and it was during those times that she would realize she'd gotten lost thinking about Wolf or Yasha or something unrelated but vaguely upsetting.

Her phone lit up silently with a new message, and Beau sat forward in her chair to thumb it open quickly.

_No, slept right through the storm :(_

Beau exhaled as her shoulders tensed further and tapped back _no worries, she's a smart dog. Just weird._

She set the phone on her desk and leaned back again, arms folded over her head and staring listlessly up at the windows at the very top of the wall opposite her without really seeing. Some distant part of her whispered that this was ruminating, that she was thinking herself in circles over nothing, but whatever part of her that might normally intercept the feeling and break it down seemed suppressed by the same low-grade exhaustion she'd woken with. The knowledge of what she was dealing with usually lent itself to finding an easier solution, but today's weather felt like the perfect atmosphere for sinking in for a little self-indulgent worry.

The lull of the rain and the stream of Beau's thoughts worked together to completely cut her off from her surroundings, and she was startled for the first time in months by Dairon's voice beside and behind her. "I don't think there's a lot to do here today. Why don't you come up to Circulation?"

Beau had completely concealed her surprise on sheer instinct, but she just assumed Dairon picked up on it anyway. Otherwise, the tiniest smidge of amusement in their words didn't fit.

"I think the _world_ is slow today." She hauled herself out of her chair and set up the little sign pointing interested parties back to the front desk before trotting after Dairon. "Bunch of projects to do?"

"Nothing outside the norm," they said mildly. "I would just rather have you bored where I can see you."

Beau wasn't fooled, but the grin she flashed had less smugness than she might've managed on a regular day. "Quality Soul agent time, I hear you."

Their voice was completely flat. "All of my time is quality."

It took a special kind of person to know when Dairon was being serious and when they were joking. It took Beau to know when they were both. She checked her phone as she slid into the chair beside Dairon's and thumbed open a new message from Jester. Probably an encouraging follow-up.

Her heart did something strange at the message. _I scried on her. She's in the woods, but not our woods. It's sunny where she is._

Sunny? Beau frowned and tapped back quickly. _At least she's safe. Thanks for looking._

She sighed and set her phone down, glancing over without picking it up again when it lit up silently. _She'll come back, don't worry. She loves u._

Beau became aware of Dairon watching her, which wasn't unusual. Dairon frequently watched Beau while appearing to work on something else. But the hairs on the back of Beau's neck prickled and she glanced over to find Dairon watching her openly, leaned back in their chair with an expression - wow, an _expression_ \- of interest.

"Something on your mind?"

If they were asking, they already knew. And if they already knew, then this was an invitation for Beau to accept or decline. She scratched the back of her neck and shifted to pull her legs up into the chair with her. "Old stuff mostly."

Dairon nodded, still watching her. "It has a way of coming back around. You've been practicing your mindfulness - don't forget to rely on what you've learned."

Beau tried to keep irritation out of her exhale but didn't succeed. "It doesn't feel like it's doing anything today, is all. It's fine. Can't…win em all, just. Sucky day."

Dairon's chin lifted in disagreement. "Letting your guard down guarantees an advantage for hostile intent." They said it casually, like an observation.

"Then it's a good thing you're not hostile," Beau said dully.

"You aren't hearing me."

The subtle ice in their voice wasn't directed at Beau, but she turned quickly at the sound of it. They were right, she wasn't hearing them. She ran their words through her head again, this time with intent to translate.

"You always tell me to be careful not to invent scenarios to guard against," she said slowly. "We're in the library. It's the safest place I know, and nothing's weird today - I'd feel it." Their face remained impassive, letting her talk herself towards something she wasn't seeing yet. "Everything's fine here and now, so you're talking about something else," she guessed. "Something outside of here we're both connected to, that you suspect I'd be thinking about." She blinked. "Are you warning me about Yasha?"

Dairon glanced off at a patron coming in from the rain. "If I needed to warn you, I would warn you. That's part of what it means to be in the position to possess information."

Beau relaxed slightly. "Yeah." She scrubbed a tiny spot off the polished desk with her finger. "I wasn't thinking about Yasha, actually. She told me she had to blow town for a few days, but it sounded routine. And besides, I barely know her."

Dairon tipped their head. "Did she say why?"

Beau smirked, but her heart wasn't in it. "Come on, I'm sure you know even if I don't."

"I know enough. It doesn't bother you then?"

There was something needling in Dairon's voice and for a split second, Beau's mind whispered a suspicion that they'd been spying on the two of them. She shook it firmly from her mind. That was part of their deal - Dairon didn't show up to watch Beau without indicating their presence in some way.

Which meant Yasha must have talked to them about her. "Exactly how close is she telling you we are?"

Dairon wasn't one given to smiling, but their piercing golden eyes softened with the same effect. "Our talks are strictly professional. You, however, have gone out of your way to pass by the front of the library on the way to your bus for three days, and you haven't asked me a single question about her."

Beau's face prickled with heat. She'd known the route change might provoke Dairon's attention, but her resolve to let Yasha keep her secrets - she hadn't realized how out of step it was with her usual until Dairon pointed it out. "I mean she's not _not_ part of it I guess, but like. A background sort of thing. Hi, did you find everything alright?"

The gangly teen that had materialized with his small stack of books and snatched her attention bobbed his head awkwardly. He stayed quiet as Beau ran the spines through the sensor - knitting and crocheting, perfect for long and aimless summer breaks - and tucked the receipt in the canvas bag he set on the counter to load up.

"Happy crafting," she added, and when the doors slid closed behind him she turned back to Dairon. "I was actually just thinking about my dog mostly."

Dairon was clicking through something on their screen and stayed facing it. "Jack?"

"Wolf. But Jack is kinda why, yeah."

They closed out of their screen and glanced at Beau again. "Has something happened?"

Beau wasn't used to Diaron's prolonged attention. She must really look out of it. "No, no it's nothing. She just got out this morning and I can't figure out how, and Jester said she scried on her and saw her in a sunny forest." She gestured at the pouring rain. "So she ran off, but you know. At least she's safe."

It had felt empty when she typed it, which was probably how Jester had known to reply the way she had. Honestly, it sounded even more unconvincing out loud.

Beau scrubbed a hand over her face, irritated at herself. "It's fine, she's not mine. She can go do what she wants. She's not even inside most of the time - for all I know, she runs super far every day."

"But you've been thinking about Jack." They didn't have to elaborate.

"Yep." Beau popped her lips on the end of the word.

Dairon looked at the clock, a gesture for Beau's benefit. They always knew what time it was. "I have a meeting now, but I've had the greenhouse blocked off past three. Meet me then, please."

Beau blinked as they got to their feet and pushed their chair back in. "Uh, okay?"

"Work on your thoughts until I get back. Leave the overdues - they will keep for a while. Just focus, and take care of patrons as they come."

Beau nodded, still confused but feeling somehow buoyed by whatever Dairon was planning. Surely not sparring - not in the greenhouse. But not studying, either - they did that on the floors with books. What could they have planned?

Whatever it was, Beau's day had gone from gloomy ponderance to anxious anticipation. She wasn't actually certain which she'd prefer.

* * *

At three o' clock, Beau unlocked the door to the greenhouse and stepped inside, locking it behind her and moving quietly into the open space.

"Greenhouse" wasn't really the right word for the library's top floor. It was mostly just a super fancy atrium with vegetation in strategic pots. It got used for everything by everyone. Galas, receptions, the odd board meeting - in the summer, it made for a handy spot to let the kids burn off some energy when they got rowdy during the reading program.

Like the rest of the library, the greenhouse was warded against illusion spells and buffered by a bubble of silence. Unlike the rest of the library, spells were allowed to be cast - though the room was swathed in high-level protective magic to prevent your everyday kind of damage.

In other words, it had been a good place to take a dragonborn girl with a cold when she started sneezing fire, but it wouldn't ward off an actual onslaught.

The lights were all off, only the pale gray of the afternoon light making it through the clear panels above, and if the rain had been loud on the first floor, it was almost deafening here. Water sloughed over the clear roof and washed in sheets down the windows, everything hushed and still and seeming almost frozen within.

Dairon was sat on one edge of the circle in the very center of the room, legs crossed and palms open on their knees. Beau had no doubt they knew she was there, not the least because they had said three and it was three, and Beau only showed up late for people who deserved it.

She moved from the hedges of concrete and vine into the bare, wide interior to fold herself into a position matching Dairon's across the circle. There was a time when the thought of copying the way they sat and affecting the meditative position, in plain sight where anyone could see into the windows, would have made Beau feel self-conscious and kind of silly. Like she was play acting. But truth be told, she'd gotten kind of badass under Dairon's training, and at this point it wasn't play acting at all.

And besides, the floor was closed off to everyone else.

Dairon didn't move or acknowledge Beau, but she was received nonetheless. She straightened her back, closed her eyes, and started counting beats on her inhales as she'd been taught. She listened to the rain and let it wash over her mind as she kept count, and when her thoughts came to play she let them tumble like kittens in soft grass. They were hers to shepherd and contain, not to become a part of.

Time fell away in that rare way it had for Beau, that razor's edge between sleep and wake where she was both fully present and somewhere else entirely. At some indeterminate point, she heard Dairon speak. They didn't raise their voice, but she heard them clearly.

"This is a test. Do nothing you hear from me until I say the word 'architect.' Is that clear?"

Curiosity swam to the surface, and Beau acknowledged its presence amicably before letting it dissolve. "Yes."

"Good. Open your eyes."

Beau breathed through the reflexive urge to follow the order. She could play grown-up Simon Says.

"It's alright," said Dairon. "You can do that much."

Beau didn't move, but had to work a little harder to stay centered this time. She'd been basically building a life on obeying Dairon in the last two years. Only their first superseding order could prevent her from following another.

She breathed.

"Beauregard, this is silly. You know what I meant. Open your eyes so we can start."

Realization washed over her. She'd misunderstood and thought they had already started - she wasn't trying to be contrary.

She had an apology on her lips and was a split second from opening her eyes when she caught herself. If Dairon wanted this from her, all they had to do was say the word they provided. Nobody knew how her mind worked as well as Dairon, and nobody accommodated her apparent dickishness with half the patience.

The game was still on.

"Beauregard."

Her eyes snapped open, thoughts obliterated in a quiet puff of smoke. "Sorry. I didn't think we'd started yet."

Dairon's eyes softened in sympathy. "It's alright, I understand. It's hard to resist somebody you trust." Their voice seemed resonant, kind. The rain had fallen away, and all that mattered was making her teacher happy. They were fucking great to her. She was damn lucky to have them, and there wasn't anything she wouldn't do for them.

"Beauregard," said Dairon.

"Hmm?"

"You broke the rule."

Beau felt some distant sadness washing up inside of her, a bewildered sense of desperation. "What do you mean? We hadn't started yet."

Dairon held up a placating hand. Something sparkled from under their hood in the dimness, a quick flash. "Hear me well. You are under a spell I have cast, and you do not care. I am telling you this now so you will remember when it is over."

A spell? Cool. "What's it do?"

"You'll see. Remember the first words I said to you in this room, and then climb up to that balcony up there quick as you like."

Beau followed their gesture up to the breezeway above, silhouetted against the glass in the half light. Twenty feet up and the stairs were outside the room, but there were curtains on either side. "We're not supposed to climb the curtains," she said doubtfully.

Dairon waved a hand. "Go on, I won't tell. You're awfully light. I'll bet they hold for you."

They had shown her these curtains early on in her employment here, how they were cleverly designed to fall apart and wrap around someone if they did attempt to climb them. It was a built-in protection for the offices connected by the open corridor. Maybe Dairon wanted her to spy on one of their coworkers. Real agent stuff.

Beau scrambled up and jogged over to take the fine material in her fingers and gave it a light tug. If they tore, the strips would wind around her and pull her crashing to the ground. It didn't matter that she'd fallen before - she'd sucked then. She was so much better now, all because of Dairon. The curtains wouldn't tear until she was up a certain height. If she jumped at the right moment, she might be able to grab on to the outer walls and pull herself over.

Walls. Walls kept things in and other stuff out. Kept people out, kept thoughts out when she used them in her mind. She was good at building walls.

  
Beau frowned. "Do nothing further until I say the word 'architect.'" She remembered it perfectly because she remembered the things Dairon told her. She considered the curtain in her hand.

"Hold on, doesn't this count as doing something before you say the word?"

Dairon smiled. "Not with my permission. What are you waiting for? We both know you're itching to show off."

Something bristled inside of Beau. She was itching to show off for Dairon. She always was. It was a little weird that they'd call attention to it now. "I'd feel better if you just went ahead and said the word so I'd know for sure."

Their voice turned to a gentle kind of bargaining. "Beauregard, I thought you were a better listener than this. You've been doing so well. Why are you refusing to listen now?"

Beau considered. "If I climb these, they'll rip and I'll fall. But there's no other way up to the breezeway except the doors."

Dairon nodded. "Of course. But why take the long way and risk setting off the alarms?"

A dull ache was beginning to pulse between Beau's eyebrows. She rubbed the spot with a thumb. "Because it hurts?"

"You're tough, I've seen you."

She was forgetting something. They were forgetting something. There was a very good reason she wasn't supposed to climb up there that didn't have anything to do with falling. If she could just think -

"I'm disappointed," Dairon said casually. "All of my other students made it up in under a minute, but you're still deliberating. That'll get you killed in the field."

Beau's thoughts were a ruin. She couldn't climb. There was something - she almost had it…she dropped to her knees and braced a hand against the floor. Her mind was a wreck of conflicting information and feelings. This was such a simple order. Why was she overthinking it? She was wasting their time, time Dairon had set aside just for them. They wanted to help her. She just had to let them.

And she would, just as soon as she got herself under control. It was okay if she didn't get it right the first time, plenty of people had beaten her at other stuff and they would again. That had taken time to learn and sometimes it still got to her, but she could deal with that. It was important to focus and do this right. That mattered more than speed.

"Beauregard."

"Just a minute, I'm thinking." She heard them say her name again, but this time it sounded tinny and far away. The rain was picking up, or maybe fading back in. Either way, she got to work dismantling her thoughts and setting them aside so she could figure out what the next step should be. It took her a moment, but she managed to find the place she'd been before Dairon spoke.

The place she had been before Dairon had given her an order.

At the recollection of an order, Beau felt a strange sensation in her thoughts. It was like she could feel fingers on her mind now, turning her mind every which way and pushing her in directions she was already inclined to go in.

Fuck that shit. Making her do what she wanted to do was the fastest way to make her stop wanting it. Dairon knew that.

Dairon knew that.

This was the test.

Beau's eyes flew open to find Dairon kneeling in front of her and watching her intently, no trace of the playful nature that had flooded their words in the last few minutes. "Architect," they said solemnly.

Beau dropped her head forward and caught herself on her elbow, breathing hard as shame and embarrassment warred with satisfaction and a sense of accomplishment.

"Fuck you."

Dairon touched her shoulder. "You did exceptionally well."

Hot tears pricked at her eyes as the storm waged inside of her and outside the building. "I hated that. You knew I would hate that."

"There was no way to alert you beforehand that would have allowed for a true test. I told you what we were doing."

She remembered, yeah. She was under a spell, completely open to being forced into something dangerous. She didn't respond.

"Look at me. Please."

Beau considered ignoring them just to see if she could, some deep part of her worried it wasn't over yet. She gasped that thought and crushed it before it could take her down a dark path and lifted her head reluctantly. So what if Dairon saw the angry tear streaking down her cheek. So fucking what. They'd seen her at her worst, worse than this. Terrified and lashing out at them, demanding an Expositor who had just yanked her from her father's long grasp that they answer to her when it came to her own choices and her own life.

She looked Dairon in the eye and demanded again. "What the fuck was that?"

"A charm effect." Dairon pulled something from their inside pocket and held it out for Beau to see. It was a set of spectacles, gold rimmed with deep blue lenses that gleamed even in the dull gray light. "A charm effect that you fought off." Their voice was not urgent, exactly, but there was an undercurrent to it that suggested weight and import.

"You used my trust to make a fucking point?"

Dairon's hand tightened its grip on her shoulder. "I have spent the last two years watching you learn to defend against your own mind. Today, you used that mind to defend against someone else's." They shook her gently. "Your mind and your will were as one, Beau. You have spent so long trying to stay safe from your own thoughts, and today you used them to break my hold on you within minutes. Do you think I let you go?"

Their hold. The hold of someone powerful enough to make Beau try and break herself for them and kind enough to stop before she would have. She knew it in her heart of hearts - Dairon would have let her fall, but they would not have let her break. They had not let her go. She had broken free. 

Her breathing was finally evening back out, and she took a deep inhale and held it before letting it go in a slow, controlled exhale. "No. You wouldn't go easy on me. I broke it." Dairon nodded solemnly. "Now will you tell me what this was about? Is it Yasha?"

"I suspect nothing ill-intentioned from her."

"But you think something could happen."

Dairon's face gave nothing away. "There is nothing concrete to warn you of, but I want you facing anything and everything with your thoughts completely your own. Your mind is powerful. It has to stay yours."

Beau wiped her nose, embarrassed by the praise. "You don't even fucking have any other students."

Dairon's hand relaxed but didn't lift. "Never found anyone else stubborn enough to stand, I'm afraid."

The idea of Dairon searching for someone hard-headed to train was not as absurd as it might have been for anyone else. Asking questions and bucking expectations was a valuable quality here, and Beau had both of those in spades.

She pushed their hand off and sat back on her heels. "Again."

An intense feeling of gratification washed over her at the pride that flickered behind Dairon's eyes. "It won't work this time unless you let it."

"I'll let it."

Dairon lifted the glasses and paused. "Then we're good?"

Beau nodded. "Yeah. I get it. Thanks, by the way. You put more work in than I realized to be able to pull that shit off without getting put through a window."

Dairon slid the glasses on and ignored the empty aggression. "So did you. Arguably more." The lenses made Dairon look like nothing so much as a pointed-eared, smooth owl of some kind - silly wasn't a word Beau would ever use to describe her teacher, but she still had to press her lips together at the sight. "Is something funny?"

"Nope. Just understanding why you sat in the shadow."

The lenses flashed in the half light. "They're perfectly dignified."

And looking at them, it was clear they were well made. Glass cut well, magic imbued. Beau relented slightly. "For an archivist, maybe."

"Go on," Dairon pressed. "You can admit they look nice."

Now Beau could feel the familiar haze. It was like a warm bath and perfectly friendly. Besides, she very much enjoyed having Dairon's full attention. "Oh, sure. They look great." She felt a distant ripple, a reminder to gain a little ground. "But then again, you make a lot of things look dignified."

Dairon hmmed, which Beau decided to take as an acceptance of her compliment. "There's still the matter of the item I need from you upstairs."

Beau looked up at the breezeway. What if she avoided the curtains and just jumped really high? She was good at that. "You've probably trapped it somehow," she said doubtfully. "What's stopping you from getting it yourself again?"

"I'm wearing my good robes."

Something triggered in the back of Beau's mind, and this time it took nothing at all to push away the fuzzy feeling. She grinned as her thoughts settled back into their own grooves. "Fuck you, get it yourself."

Dairon slid the glasses into the inside pocket of their robe and stood. "Very good. You've got it. Yes, it is trapped. I should fix that since we're done here." Their eyes focused on the railing above, and they took two quick steps and leaped.

It was an impossible distance - Beau would have needed a running start that spanned the entire room for the prayer of making it up that high, but Dairon just…did it.

They disappeared behind the wall, and Beau was left to look out the window for a moment at the gray afternoon surrounding them. The rain was starting to slack off now, more of a summer shower than a proper storm, and it made Beau think again of Wolf in her sunny forest. The break to focus on something else had definitely helped with the sense of distance from the worry, but it still wasn't easy. Still, Beau managed a sincere, if grudging, sense of gratitude for Wolf's apparent safety. Nobody had taken her away, at least not anyone she didn't want to go with, and Beau knew - had known from day one - that Wolf wasn't hers.

It was likely she would come back, but if she didn't, it didn't have to mean Beau hadn't been good enough. In fact it couldn't, because wolves didn't think that way. That was all her.

Dairon landed soundlessly beside her, placing something inside their robes that had probably been designed to do something unpleasant if triggered. "You're distracted again."

Beau was surprised to hear the question inside the statement. "Not really. Thinking, yeah, but not dwelling anymore."

Her answer seemed to satisfy Dairon. "Try not to create problems to solve. Your mental acuity is strongest undivided."

"I know, I know." Beau peered hard at Dairon in the gray light. "Are you going to give me anything about what brought this on?"

Dairon's eyes narrowed in the way Beau had long ago come to recognize for contemplation rather than annoyance. "I know little more than you, truthfully. But I know that if you remain involved with Yasha, the stakes will rise. I want you prepared, that's all."

Beau blinked. "You think Yasha is charming me?"

"There is more to Yasha's situation than she herself can control," Dairon replied. "As I said, I detect no ill intent and I trust your instincts. I am simply giving you the tools to be certain your decisions and your actions are your own."

Asking anything more would be pointless. Beau knew Dairon to be transparent when possible - which was never - and recognized the end of their ability to expound when she heard it. "My next action is to annoy you into buying me dinner after all that."

The both of them began walking for the door as one, some invisible resolution reached. "I was going to suggest similar," said Dairon. "I anticipated a coffee request."

The reminder that Dairon didn't know everything about her was always nice. Beau trusted them, but if they got every detail about her right all the time, it would be hell to sort through her feelings. "I didn't eat a whole lot at lunch. Keyed up, you know."

The door clicked behind them, the bright lights of the outside hallway feeling like they belonged to a whole other world after their time inside the dim gray room. Dairon looked as though they might remind Beau about the connection between body and mind, and Beau braced herself. "Seating or takeout?"

She relaxed. Dairon was apparently done imparting wisdom for the day, which was fine by her. They had good stuff to say, but Beau liked the time she rarely got to feel on something close to equal footing with them. It was a good reminder that she actually liked Dairon, that they were more than just another well-meaning person telling her how to live. "Seating," she said. "We've got time."

Dairon nodded as the elevator doors closed. "That's because of you. I blocked us for two hours, and it only took you thirty minutes."

Beau glared at them without heat. "Hell of an underestimation."

They lifted their chin primly. "I like to think of it as thorough preparation."

"In case I wanted to fight you?"

"You always want to fight me. But yes, in case we needed to work through anything."

Warmth spread behind Beau's chest. "Hey, my evening's free. Say the word."

The elevator doors slid open, and Dairon strode into the main lobby. "Save it for tomorrow's session. For now, food. I'm starving."

* * *

Wolf was still nowhere to be found when Beau came home, just Jester perched on the couch with her sketchbook and a smattering of colored pencils. Her frown of concentration eased into relief as Beau waved and kicked her shoes off. "Hey. Brought you some food if you want it."

Jester accepted the bag and set it to the side to look up at her again. "How are you feeling?"

Beau sighed and started undoing her hair. "Honestly? A little tired of thinking about what I'm feeling for the day. Nothing you did - Dairon ran me through some kind of mental training today." She pushed her fingers through the top of her hair. "I'm fine, is the main point. And thank you."

"Did you mentally kick their butt?"

"You know it." They both smiled as Beau collapsed into the plush rocking chair beside the couch and pushed herself absentmindedly back and forth. "What are you working on?"

The red pencil in Jester's hand made a few more quiet scratching sounds, and then Jester looked it all over and carefully tore the page from her sketchbook. "I made this for you. It's mostly just a sketch, but I thought you might like to see."

Beau had a faint inkling of what it might be before she reached to take it, but it didn't fully prepare her for the sight of it.

It was a colorful and lineless art of a vibrant green forest shot through with yellow rays of light. There was a river in the foreground, not blue but brown and gray and yellow with the mud and the rocks and the sunlight. On the grass amid handfuls of colorful flowers, belly-up in the sunlight, was Wolf. She looked mid-stretch, her tongue hanging out in a goofy sort of grin.

"I didn't get that many details," Jester said. "But I drew what I could remember. I think she'll come home when she's done playing." She was looking anxiously at Beau, waiting for her reaction.

To be fair, it took Beau a moment herself to know what that would be. She set the page carefully on the end table between them and hauled herself up from the chair. "Move your pencils. I'm coming in."

Jester's face broke into a grin as she quickly pushed her box of drawing supplies over and set her sketchbook on top. Beau flopped up against her and hugged her shoulders tightly. "Thanks for showing me. And for using your spell to look in the first place."

Jester squeezed the breath out of Beau, which was just how she liked it if she was doing hugs. "Of course. I want her to come back, too. And I like seeing you make new friends."

There was something teasingly reproachful in her words, and Beau sat back to squint at her. "Okay I've hung out with Yasha all of twice and that’s way too soon for that kind of tone. You been talking to Veth?"

She giggled. "Caleb."

Beau's face turned red. If Caleb had noticed enough of something to comment to Jester, she must have been putting off more…just more than she thought. "I'll get you and Yasha in the same place soon," she promised. "She's kind of hard to pin down, time-wise."

"Oh no," said Jester in mock despair. "I don't have any experience in making friends with any kind of difficulties attached. All of my friendships have been soooo easy."

Beau laughed and pushed at her shoulder. "You know, you're saying that like it's not true. You're like a laser beam. One hit, and that's it. You're marked. Jester's gonna be friends with you whether you like it or not."

Jester grabbed at her hands to push Beau back on the couch, sharp teeth visible in her grin. "Just say the word, and I'll make sure you see lots of Yasha."

Beau smiled at her. "Yeah. Better show her to all of you early so she knows who she's dealing with."

Light broke over the room, still an uncertain pale in the mix of the weather and the evening hour but cheerful nonetheless. Beau squirmed from Jester's hold and laughed as she scrambled up to follow as Beau pulled the door open and ran out onto the soaked gravel of the driveway. She backed up, keeping her eyes peeled and her back to the sun.

"There!" Jester pointed up over the trees, where Beau saw nothing until Jester's tail tilted her chin.

"Oh dang, that's really faint."

"Yep," Jester agreed cheerfully. "But it’s still there."

* * *

Still there, Beau thought a half hour later as she threw her bra away and slipped into a faded old t-shirt. She sighed contentedly, pulling the soft fabric in against her skin. She'd definitely had too much wisdom thrown at her today, if it was infecting even Jester's simple statements. Her brain was still stuck on lesson mode, looking for signs in everything.

There were worse things, she guessed as she squinted out the window in the place the rainbow had been. If she came away from a goofy interaction with Jester with some weird metaphor for hope or whatever, there was no real harm. Maybe she still needed it. Like the reassurance Yasha had given her. That had been nice, but when it came to Wolf she’d have to do the heavy lifting herself. That was fine.

She noticed the lock undone on the pane and snapped it closed again absentmindedly before pulling the curtain and turning away. Enough deep stuff. It was time go chill out with Jester and pass the evening away with something simple and cheerful.

Wolf would come back, just like Yasha. She could feel it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just think stillness of mind is neat, and I like narrating gameplay effects. I didn't mean for the charm scene to be so long, but I definitely enjoyed getting to play with more of the relationship Dairon and Beau have here.


End file.
